The Guy Next Door
by Moonlight Silhouette
Summary: [AU] 22 year old Susannah Simon has just graduated college and is now looking for the chance to make it on her own in New York City. She moves in to her new apartment and it isn't long before she realises that she has a crush on The Guy Next Door. [JS]
1. Chapter 1

**A.N - Okay, I know I said that I'd post this after I finished The Girl. But it was just kind of begging to be posted. I'd love to know what you think.

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**Chapter 1**

_"I've never been Romeo who meets a girl and falls for her immediately. It's been a much slower process for me each time I've gone into a relationship. "_

_- Leonardo DiCaprio (American Actor, 1974 - )_

You never realise how much useless stuff you have until there comes a time when you have to pack it all away. I mean, honestly, what was I thinking when I bought this stupid lamp? It's totally tacky and goes with nothing.

But that lamp belonged to college Suze. Now, I am the totally independent, living alone, more mature Susannah Simon.

The same Susannah Simon who was apparently to weak to take a box up five flights of stairs.

I huffed dejectedly as I set the box down next to the door after having only successfully taken it up three steps.

"Stupid useless stuff." I muttered to myself.

Why couldn't I have thought to have thrown away the stuff I would never use, ever again.

I guess I was too preoccupied with the thought of finally having a place to myself. But the apartment I bought is amazing. Really. It's in a good neighbourhood, has lots of space _and _its cheap and came with the basic furniture.

What more could a twenty-two year old, fresh out of college girl ask for?

"Need some help?" A deep, masculine, very sexy voice asked me.

I looked up and matched the voice to probably one of the most gorgeous guys I have ever seen before in my life. He was tall, tanned and his dark brown eyes were twinkling with laughter.

"I'm Jesse, by the way," he continued.

Oh God. He had a tinge of Spanish in his voice. This totally attractive guy - who had rendered me completely immobile with three words and a glance upwards to see who was being so kind to me - had an _accent_.

I think that carrying that box killed me and now I'm in heaven. It's the only possible explanation.

"Um, yeah," I finally manage to get out. "Please."

Jesse smiles at me and reached out to pick up the box with ease.

I had to bite my lip to keep from blurting out that he had the biggest muscles I had ever seen.

"Where's this going?" He asked me.

I dragged my eyes away from his arms - which were encased in a white shirt that had been unbuttoned slightly at the top - and up to his face.

"Apartment 5B," I told him. Without stuttering.

I watched as his lips twisted into a small smile.

"Alright then."

He carried the extremely heavy box as if it was filled with no more then a few feathers. Show off. Extremely sexy show off.

I followed him up the winding stair case - however amazing my apartment was, the only downside was that there was no elevator. I was just glad I was on the fifth floor as opposed to, say, the fifteenth - unable to keep my eyes from assessing his clothing choices.

He'd tucked his white shirt into the front of his dark, denim jeans, leaving the back hanging freely.

This man was a work of art. I should know, I have a degree in it now.

"Well," Jesse announced. "Here we are. Glad I could help, stranger."

I smiled gratefully at him.

"My name is Susannah," I told him. "But my friend's call me Suze."

He looked at me for a long while.

"I like Susannah," he told me.

I blushed as I averted my eyes away from his and looked at the floor. I was acting like I was in middle school with my first crush. Get a hold of yourself, Simon!

"Well," I broke the silence that had settled around us. "Thank you for your help Jesse."

"It was my pleasure."

He smiled at me then. A wide, bright white, sparkling smile. My heart fluttered and for the first time all morning, I wished that there were more boxes that needed to be brought up.

"Um," I began intelligently. "Do you maybe want to go and get a cup of coffee? So that I can thank you properly?"

"Sure," his smile never left his face. "I'd like that."

"Great," I said before wincing at how enthusiastic I sounded. "Just let me put this box away."

Jesse nodded and I turned around and put my key into the door.

As always, when I saw the apartment I felt giddy. It was mine. No parents, no dorm advisors - which is what I had to put up with throughout college - just me. I was responsible for myself now.

I pushed the box to join the others it the main area of the room - which had come with a sofa and a television - before turning around and leaving my apartment again.

"Ready?" Jesse asked me as I reappeared.

"Yep."

Together we walked down the stairs and towards the nearest coffee place, which was only two blocks away.

We walked in silence. Jesse's hands were dug deep inside of his pockets as he walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the road, the way a gentleman does.

And Jesse really was a gentleman. The way he had so kindly offered to help me lug heavy items up numerous flights of stairs, the sidewalk thing and even the way he held the door open for me to walk through first. Everything he did pointed towards having been raised a gentleman.

This guy really _was _amazing.

We ordered coffee and took a seat opposite each other in a booth.

"So," I began, stirring sugar and milk into my coffee. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-six. You?"

"Twenty-two."

His eyes did that thing again. The one where they twinkle with laughter, though what he found so funny totally threw me for a loop. I'd only told him my age, what was so funny about that?

"What's a twenty-two year old woman," he asked, "doing on her own in New York City?"

"Well," I started to launch into the story. "I was born and raised in Brooklyn until my mom flew me out to California to live with her new husband when I was sixteen. I finished high school over there and moved back to my hometown for college. I'm a city girl at heart."

Jesse raised his eyebrow.

"I see."

I was starting to realise that he didn't really like to say much. He had this whole mysterious thing going for him.

By the time that he had asked me about my college life and I'd told him all about how I'd majored in Art History with a minor in English Lit., we had both finished our coffee. I pulled out my purse to pay for the drinks.

"No," Jesse stopped me. "Let me."

There he goes with the gentleman thing again.

"No," I insisted. "This was a thank you for helping me. I'm going to pay."

Jesse gave in when I said that and let me put down the $15 on the table.

We left the coffee house silently but filled the walk back to my apartment with talk about my family life. The only things he told me about his own life was that he had grown up with his mom, dad and five sisters in California before he moved to New Mexico with his family when he was fourteen.

I also managed to get out of him that his family was Spanish, which explained the accent and colouring. Though, to be honest, I probably could've guessed that.

"Well," I said once we reached my door. "Thanks for walking me home."

"My pleasure," he repeated whilst his eyes danced with mirth and his lips twisted into a small grin.

Seriously now, what's so funny?

"Good day, querida." He said before turning and walking …

… straight into the apartment opposite mine.

Oh my God. Jesse lived next door to me. I'd been living here for a total of two hours and already I had a crush on the Guy Next Door.

That's what was so funny! He knew all along that he was going to be seeing me every day. He found it funny that I was hanging on his every word. He found it funny that what I thought was a gentlemanly gesture of walking me home, was really just him walking himself home and allowing me to give him some company as he did so.

Oh My God.

Mortified, I span around and raced into my own apartment, slamming the door behind me.

I was going to die of embarrassment. If I ever saw Jesse, who's last name I didn't know, ever again, it would be way too soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N - Thank you all so much for the positive response that this fic has already gotten. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

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**Chapter 2**

_"The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep."_

_- Paul Strand (American Photographer and Filmmaker 1890 - 1976)_

A week. A week I'd been hiding in my room, scared of running into Jesse the second I stepped out of my door. But today I had to risk it.

I had to find a job.

It's not like I'd never had a job before - my step-dad had made me get one every summer back in California. It's just … I'd heard horror stories about getting a job in New York.

I wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the possibility of me being shot down by numerous employers.

Still, I couldn't survive on nothing. So, I left my room with a copy of the _New York Times _in my hand, circles around the jobs that had appealed to me.

After a quick check on my landing to make sure that none of my neighbours were about - well, Jesse - I was outside and ready to get a job.

An hour later I was pretty sure that however much I wanted a job, no jobs wanted me.

As it turns out, having a degree in Modern Art doesn't actually help anybody out in the real world.

Just as I was ready to give up, I caught sight of a really modern, made-out-of-glass building out of the corner of my eye.

Wow. Whoever owned that had money.

Lots of money.

I checked the sign on the front of the building.

"Slater Gallery." Read the familiar-sounding sign.

Gallery?

I scanned through the job listings in my newspaper and mentally snapped my fingers when I saw the ad.

"Position of Art Director available at Slater Gallery. Call Paul for details."

I knew that I recognised the name.

Along with the description of the job there was the gallery's address and this Paul guy's number.

Well, seeing as I'm here …

I took a deep breath and walked up to the automatic doors which opened with a swoosh of cold air blasting at me. A nice refresher after an hour and a half of trudging around New York streets in the hot June weather.

Inside was even more impressive then outside. Seriously. The ceiling stretched upwards for _miles_. Or it seemed like anyway.

The thing that floored me though was the exhibition that was currently open.

Off to the side of the main doors was a roomy corridor of white walls decorated with the most amazing paintings I had ever seen.

So many artists preferred to use modern techniques nowadays. Photography, Graphics … It was rare if you found a modern painter who took your breath away as if it were one of Van Gogh's original masterpieces.

But this artist had managed to achieve it.

The first painting on the wall was pretty simple in content - A lake at night time. But the quality…

Um, can you say wow?

I stepped to have a closer look at the painting.

The artist had used dark blue's and black's to create the midnight sky and small flecks of white for stars. The lake mirrored the sky with a glassy sheen. Tiny, detailed water-lily's had been painted on top of the almost icy lake adding the only other colour to the piece - green and pink - as bulrushes adorned the edge. Surrounding the lake was mossy, green grass tinged dark with the shadows of the small moon shining brightly from its position in the corner.

If this was only the beginning, imagine what more this artist had achieved.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

I was startled out of my admiration of the painting by a deep voice. Turning around I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as I was met with the face of someone who was extremely hot. Not as hot as Jesse, of course not - no one could beat that.

But hot enough. He had dark brown hair that fell into his eyes and was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a tight polo t-shirt. The bright white teeth of his cocky smile told me that he knew he was hot too.

But really, what are the odds of me meeting the two best looking guys in New York, in similar ways, within a week of one another?

"Yeah," I breathed out as I turned to look at the painting again. Maybe if I didn't look at him, I could hold an actual conversation. "It really is."

"What do you like most about it?"

Mystery-guy stepped closer to me. So close that I could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

"The way the painting is made up of, more or less, the same colours, yet the artist has still managed to distinguish the difference between the lake and sky without blending everything together in a swirling mess."

I was so happy with my intelligent response that it took a while for me to realise that my fellow art-appreciator had yet to respond.

I tilted my head to look at him surreptitiously.

He was looking at me with a small smile on his face.

"What did you come in here for?" He asked me randomly.

Well, it was a strange question, given our conversation minutes before.

I blushed as I answered.

"Well," I admitted. "I'm here about the job." I gestured to my newspaper. "I was about to go and find a manager or somebody, but I got distracted by this exhibition."

I returned my full attention to the row of paintings.

"Do you know who the artist is?" I asked the stranger.

"Oh yes," He took my arm and began to lead me down the corridor. "He happens to be a favourite of mine. His name is Hector de Silva."

"Hector de Silva?" I repeated. "I've never heard of him. How can he be a favourite of yours?"

Mystery-guy laughed and covered my hand with his own on his arm.

"The exhibition opened a few days ago," he told me. "I stumbled across it, quite like yourself, and since then I've admired the artist."

Nodding, I soaked in all of the amazing paintings this artist had done. Some of them were remarkably simple - landscapes, still life, that type of thing - but every time the artist painted something that was a favourite for art teacher's around the world, he made it his own.

This Hector de Silva truly had a gift.

"Well," Mystery-guy announced. "That's all."

I felt my face fall when I heard that news but Mystery-guy had a strange smile on his face once he caught a look at my own.

"And you've got the job."

I stepped back and looked at him disbelievingly, my sadness quickly turnign to anger at the way he was mocking me.

"What," I hissed at him. "The hell do you think you're doing? You can't play with me like that! You don't work here, there's no possible way you can give me the job!"

Mystery-guy kept the stupid smirk on his face even as his eyes sparkled with laughter. Jesse's eyes sparkled better, I noticed.

"No," he admitted, "you're right. I don't work here."

I let a self-satisfied smile spread over my face. See? I told you! I felt like sticking my tongue out at this stranger who had started out to be so nice but turned into a jerk in less than half an hour.

"I own it."

Wait a minute. What?

"And despite your outburst," he carried on, smiling. "You've got the job."

I tried to answer him, I really did. But all that came out of my mouth were questions that were bound to go unanswered.

"What?" After my intelligent opinions throughout the entire mini-tour, I was quite disappointed in myself. "How? Who? Huh?"

His smile turned into a smirk as he held out his hand and offered a small mock-bow.

"Paul Slater," he announced looking up at me almost mischievously. "At your service."

Paul _Slater_? As in _Slater_ Gallery?

Oops.


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N - Um, wow. The response for this fic has been kinda huge. Thank you all soo much.**

**Though I am kind of scared that I wont be able to live up to your expectations now.**

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**Chapter 3**

_"Why does a man take it for granted that a girl who flirts with him wants him to kiss her - when, nine times out of ten, she only wants him to want to kiss her?" _

_- Helen Rowland (American Journalist and Humorist 1875 - 1950)_

The embarrassment and humiliation that I went through as I found out Mystery-guy's real identity was so worth it once I was shown to what would become my office.

It was beautiful. If I didn't already have my slightly better apartment, I would have asked to live there. Honestly, it's _that _good.

Like the rest of the building, considering that it was made of glass, the entire North Wall of the office was transparent. And thanks to this, I had the best view of New York City in all of its glory.

I was still stood at the window, looking out at the many skyscrapers and tall buildings stretching towards the sky when Paul cleared his throat behind me.

"You like it?" He asked.

I turned around incredulously.

"Like it?" I exclaimed, shocked. "I love it! How could you not?" I span around and looked out of the window again. "Just, look at all of that out there."

I soon realised, however, that Paul's attention was focused elsewhere. On me.

"You really see beauty in everything don't you?"

I couldn't help blushing.

"Well," I said modestly. "Not _everything_. I mean, just this morning, I was out in the park and I saw this guy totally checking out this old woman."

I shuddered as I remembered.

"That's not beautiful. It's just wrong. She was like three times his age!"

Paul's chuckle echoed against the glass, sending it tinkling all around the office.

I joined in the laughter. It was good that I got on with my - totally hot - new boss.

"Well," I finally said after a silence had encompassed the room shortly after the laughter stopped. "I better get going. Thanks for the job, and for showing me around the exhibit."

I paused as I thought back to the artist's work. Hector de Silva. I repeated his name in my mind, determined to google him as soon as I found an internet connection _somewhere _in this city.

"No problem," Paul said easily. "I was amazed that one person could have so much to say about such simple subjects."

"They were amazing!" I gasped out, dangling dangerously on the edge of another speech about the work of Hector de Silva. "His 'simple subjects' were painted with such complexity, that …"

I trailed off as I noticed my boss looking at me.

"Again," he said. "How can one person feel so much for a piece of art?"

"It's the degree," I joked, tapping a finger against my temple. "They don't hand them out to just anybody."

Paul's face was mockingly serious.

"I agree."

I laughed once again at his tone and after saying my goodbyes, I left my amazing office, as well as the building.

But not before taking one last walk down the corridor that a certain artist's works hung in.

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I must have been in the Slater Gallery longer then I thought. When I left, the air was only slightly warmer then the air-conditioning that had been on inside of the building and the sun was starting to sink below the horizon.

You would have thought that I'd have noticed that happening, considering I'd spent the last half an hour staring out at the same scene, but I didn't. Notice it, I mean. Which just made seeing it now all the more breathtaking.

Maybe Paul was right, and I did see beauty in everything. But I can't help it when everything actually is - in it's own way.

Like today, for example. Today started off ugly with my being turned down after every place I tried to get a job, but look at it now.

The sun was setting stunningly against the urban scenery, closing the ugly day with a scene of such brilliance that I _really _wished I could draw. And that I carried a sketchbook with me everywhere I went. Including job searching.

I was so happy that I forgot to watch out for Jesse, to save myself running into him. Which, because I did forget, I did. Quite literally.

"Woah," he teased as I walked into him on the stairway just outside of our landing, holding onto my arms lightly to steady me. "Guess you didn't see me."

I smiled sheepishly.

"I'm sorry."

My face wasn't obviously very sincere considering what he said next.

"You don't look it," he stated, gazing at me with a quirked eyebrow.

I sighed.

"I really am sorry," I told him. "But I got a job today in a really amazing place. I guess I just wasn't paying attention."

"You got a job?" He asked me, smiling also now. "Well, I guess it calls for a celebration."

"Celebration?" I squeaked embarrassingly.

Honestly, I could be so mature when I wanted to - like with Paul in the Gallery - and so not straight afterwards.

"Yeah," he continued. "Drinks, on me. I was headed to the bar to meet a friend anyway. He won't mind if you tag along."

I suppressed my cringe. Great. Now I'm a tag-along.

Jesse's eyes widened comically as his hands held onto my arms slightly tighter. Only then did I realise that he'd never actually let go of me.

"Not like that," he rushed out. "I want you there."

He shut his eyes as he heard what he just said, before sighing and giving in.

"I'd like you to come out with me," he rephrased. "To celebrate your new job. My friend will be there with his girlfriend. Would you like to come?"

I smiled flirtatiously.

Despite all of his flustering, Jesse was still unbelievingly hot. Way more then Paul was.

"I would love to."

I placed my hand on top of his, which was still resting on my arm, and surreptitiously took a deep breath as I was about to make the biggest jump I'd ever made with a guy I'd had two conversations with.

I laced my hand with his, entwining our fingers.

When he smiled at the action, my heart fluttered wildly. His smile, his teeth, his eyes, his hair, his accent …

Everything about him was just so brilliant.

Like a walking version of a Hector de Silva painting.

I looked up and saw his face twisted into a smile as he led me out of the building and down the street.

And in that moment, all I wanted was for him to kiss me.

I was starting to think that this whole thing, between me and Jesse, might be more then just a crush.


	4. Chapter 4

**A.N - Man, I love you guys so much. I've got more reviews for this story after 3 chapters then I did after another story of 10 chapters. I'm so glad you like this.**

**Dedicated to Xx Tohru xXx Seraphina xX** **for being an amazing reader and reviewer, as well as for helping me out with plot ideas. Hope you like.**

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**Chapter 4**

_"One reason I don't drink is that I want to know when I am having a good time."_

_- Lady Astor (First woman member of the British House of Commons 1879 - 1964)_

The bar he led me to was surprisingly classy. Not that I thought that Jesse would take me to a really seedy place with a bad reputation. But, hello, this _is_ New York.

There was a bar area - duh - and a space for tables where people put their drinks while they were dancing. The dance floor was one of those discretely beautiful things again though. Honestly, Paul says that one time, and already I've put it into practise about a million times.

Multicoloured lights rained down on the mess of dancing bodies, glistening with sweat from their exertion.

"Can't wait to dance, huh?" Jesse had caught me staring and his lips were curved into a kind smile.

I blushed - something I seem to be doing a lot around him.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I like dancing."

"Let me introduce you to my friends," he said. "Then we'll go out there, okay?"

He was really offering to take me out on the dance floor? Where I had a totally valid reason for getting all close to him? Hell yeah, that was okay.

"Sure," I replied coolly. I can so control my emotions. Sometimes.

He smiled at me winningly.

He really was good looking.

Maybe when we get home, we could -

No Suze! I scolded myself. You're just about to meet his friends. No fantasising about the two of you.

Even if would be really cool.

No!

"Susannah," I tuned back into what Jesse was saying, hoping that my inner argument hadn't shown on my face in anyway - say, in the form of drool. "This is Adam and his girlfriend CeeCee."

I turned to smile at the couple who were playing a game of pool.

"Nice to meet you," I told them courteously.

"Wow, Jesse," Adam took my hand and kissed it dramatically. "Where've you been hiding this one?"

His question earned him a slap on the arm from his girlfriend, who had very fair blonde hair and pale skin. But that was totally understandable, considering the Winters you could get in New York. Maybe she just hadn't had time to work on her tan yet.

Jesse's eyebrow quirked as he looked at me.

"I haven't been hiding her," he told Adam whilst still looking at me. "She hid herself."

Oops, I guess he noticed.

I looked around sheepishly.

"So," I spoke after a silence. "Anyone up for a game of pool?"

"I'll play you," Offered CeeCee, swiping the cue out of her boyfriend's hands and passing it over to me. "The men can get the drinks."

Adam made a real show of puffing out his chest.

"Of course, m'lady."

CeeCee laughed as he walked over towards the bar.

"What can I get you, Susannah?" Jesse asked me.

"Oh," I replied. "Just a Coke. I'm not really a big drinker."

Nodding, he went to join Adam over at the bar. Naturally my eyes followed. Oh come on, I've said it enough times. The guy is _gorgeous_.

"So, Susannah, is it?" CeeCee asked me as she lined up the shot to break the triangle of balls.

"Suze," I corrected watching as she potted in a stripe. She was good at this game.

"Suze." She nodded to herself, remembering to call me that. "So, Suze, do you like Jesse?"

My eyes practically bulged out of my head. Oh my God. Was I that obvious? Did he turn around to his friends last week and joke about how his new next door neighbour had this totally obvious crush on him and then they all made plans about how he was going to string her along, only to -

"Woah," CeeCee looked at me funnily. "Your mind looked like it was going a mile a minute there."

Um, that's because it was.

"Sorry." I said, readying myself for my first shot. My eyes scanned the bar, stopping when I spotted Jesse. "Yeah," I added after a pause. "I guess I do."

I'd known this girl for about two minutes and already I knew that it was out of character for her to squeal as she did after my announcement.

"Oh my god, that is so cool!" She said excitedly. "We can double! Jesse needs a girlfriend after what his last girlfriend did to him."

My interest was piqued.

"Last girlfriend?"

She rolled her eyes.

"This total bitch he met when he lived in New Mexico. Her name is Maria Diego. Well, it is now. Jesse said that they were engaged before she ran off with his best friend, Felix. They came back married and Jesse moved here for a new start."

Oh, wow. Jesse had been engaged. That is not something I thought I'd hear.

"Sorry we took so long," Adam said, putting a colourful drink coupled with a tiny umbrella and a straw in front of CeeCee while Jesse put down a glass filled with fizzy coke and ice by me.

I turned around to thank him and saw his face was only inches away from mine.

I swallowed. Loudly.

"How about that dance I promised you?"

I nodded, silently turning around and gulping a mouthful of my drink to wet my dry throat.

His eyes twinkled with laughter again. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

Taking his offered hand he led me amongst the mass of writhing bodies to a spot of floor more or less in the middle.

Just as I was pumping myself up, reading to start joining the rest of the crowd as they danced rhythmically to the beat of some latest dance hit, the music switched to a song that was much slower.

I hesitated, not knowing if I was crossing some type of neighbourly boundary if I danced with him but Jesse didn't waste a second in wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him.

He even smelled good. Was there nothing wrong with this man? Because I was under the impression that there was no such thing as a perfect man. And that's just what Jesse was turning out to be.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and swayed to the slower beat with him.

I shut my eyes as I leaned my head against his chest. I don't care if I _was _crossing some neighbourly boundary, this opportunity was just way too good to pass on.

"Susannah?" His deep voice rumbled in his chest, sending shivers through me.

"Yeah?" I looked up at him to find him looking straight down at me, his eyes darker then normal.

He didn't say anything else.

My tongue darted out to moisten my lips - an action which Jesse's eyes followed.

Then it happened. Slowly, he started leaning towards me. I shut my eyes ready for the feel of his lips on my own.

And there it was.

Jesse was kissing me!

Right in the middle of a dance floor, in a club full to the brim.

Not like I cared, or noticed for that matter.

Because, on top of everything else, Jesse was also an amazing kisser. And I mean that.

I could quite happily kiss him forever and never get bored.

He pulled away from me and rested his forehead against my own as we carried on dancing.

"You never told me what your new job is," Jesse whispered.

"You never asked." I teased back.

"I'm asking now."

Only, instead of answering, like he probably expected me to do, I leaned up to kiss him again.

Well, can you blame me?


	5. Chapter 5

**A.N - Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of your amazing reviews when I went on holiday. It really made coming home again put a smile on my face. I hope I've replied to you all, and if I haven't just PM me and I will. :D**

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**Chapter 5**

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_"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."_

_-From the movie **Annie**._

I was so getting jealous stares from every available woman in this bar.

Seriously, almost _everybody _was envious of Jesse. And the fact that I was the girl he'd spent all night with.

A few hours after our first kiss, and we were sat at the table, his arm over my shoulders as I snuggled up to his side. His bottle of beer was balanced on his knee with his other hand. In short, he looked _very_ sexy.

"So, then," Adam, who was slightly drunk, had taken to telling stories about his girlfriend. "CeeCee knocked him one. Like, wham, and he was down."

CeeCee only rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

"It's not as bad as the time that you almost got arrested for hitting that guy," Jesse reminded his friend as I enjoyed the rumblings vibrating through his body from the sound of his voice.

I let out a small sigh, which Jesse obviously heard as he looked at me with a smile on his face, before kissing my hair.

Cue the jealous looks.

Yeah, I was so loving this.

"How was I to know the guy was an undercover cop?" Adam complained drunkenly loud. "He was looking at Cee."

CeeCee stood up, and pulled her boyfriend up with her.

"Come on, he-who-must-defend-my-honour," she joked. "Let's get you home."

"Why?" Adam looked back over at me and Jesse, squinting as he did so. "I want to stay and talk with these two guys." He paused and squinted harder before frowning. "Four guys." He corrected himself.

I joined Jesse and CeeCee in their laughter.

"Bye Jesse," CeeCee nodded at us. "Suze."

There was a silence following the couple's departure.

Jesse raised his beer bottle to his mouth and downed the contents in one gulp. I watched as the muscle in his throat moved with each swallow.

"Let's get you home then." He stated, standing up and holding out his hand after he left the bottle on the nearest table.

I pouted but stood anyway, eager to re-establish the physical connection between the two of us.

We walked the first few blocks in silence, but as we drew nearer to our apartment building, I had to break the silence.

"What is this?" I asked. At Jesse's confused look I ventured further. "Between you and me?"

"Oh," Jesse smiled. "Well, I believe that it's called dating."

I smiled and leant in a bit closer to his side. He moved his hand from mine, and instead put his arm around my shoulder again.

"I know that." I bit my lip as I spoke the next part in a small voice, scared of his answer. "Officially? Like, you're my boyfriend?"

Jesse stopped walking and looked down at me with his deep, soul-searching, brown eyes.

"Only if you're my girlfriend," He said deeply.

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips as I gave my reply.

"That works out nicely then."

"It does, doesn't it?"

Then he kissed me, again, right there on the street outside of our building.

He really is an amazing kisser. I don't know how many times I have said it, but it's true.

We pulled apart and he took my hand, once again entwining our fingers.

I dreaded each and every step we took up the stairs. The closer we got to home, the sooner we'd have to part.

It seemed as if he felt the same way, considering that the trip up the stairs took almost twice as long as it normally would have done. Eventually, we reached our floor and stood facing each other awkwardly in the hallways between our two apartments.

Should I invite him in? Or would it seem kind of sluttish? It was only our first, real date, after all …

"Susannah." Just that one word snapped all of my attention back onto him. The way he spoke my name was practically sinful. "Do you want to come inside?"

Each word was spoken fluidly in a deep voice.

"You never told me about your new job afterwards."

His lips perked upwards at the corner in that amused smile of his.

"So I didn't," I responded coolly, but inside my head I was jumping up and down at the prospect of spending more time with him. "Well then, how could I possibly I leave you in such suspense?"

"My thoughts, exactly."

He unlocked his door, and held it open for me to walk through ahead of him.

What I saw was the opposite of my apartment. Everything the same, but backwards, and decorated a lot more thoroughly as well.

"Have a seat," He gestured to a couch similar to my own - they must come with all of the apartments. "Would you like some coffee?"

I smiled gratefully.

"Please."

He smiled and walked away to what I knew was the kitchen.

I took the time to survey his apartment. It wasn't a bachelor pad, _per se_, but it screamed masculinity. From the black carpets - so that you can't see anything if it was spilt, not that I suspected that Jesse was messy. His apartment was way tidier then mine - to the art hanging from the wall.

Wait a minute.

Art?

I walked over to look at it properly.

It was brilliant. Bright colours danced around the canvas as the simple background provided a sense of space, as opposed to leaving the other shapes floating mindlessly. It reminded me a bit of the artwork on display back at the Gallery.

Looking at the corner, I almost screamed once I saw the initials penned on. HDS. Hector de Silva.

"Susannah?" Jesse called as he walked back into the room. "I have your drink."

I span around to face him.

"How did you get this painting?" I asked him excitedly. "I love this guy's work!"

Jesse raised his scarred eyebrow.

"You know his work?" He asked, placing the cups of coffee on to a nearby table. "I thought he wasn't that well known."

"Well," I admitted. "He's not. Not really. But his work is an exhibition where I work - at the Slater Gallery - and I fell in love with it on my first day there."

"You work in the Slater Gallery?" Jesse asked as I turned to look at the amazing painting again.

"Uh-huh," I replied. "Since, well, this morning, actually." I laughed sheepishly, looking over at him with a smile on my face. "How'd you come across this Hector guy anyway?"

"Oh," Jesse handed me my cup of coffee as he stood behind me, looking at the painting also. If he stepped forward an inch, I would be rested against him - my back to his chest. "I know the owner."

I tilted my head to look at his expression. He didn't seem too happy.

"You know Paul?" I asked, surprised. They seemed like they would have never crossed paths - the both of them being so different. "How?"

He clenched his teeth as he shut his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"I went to college with him."

Wow, small world.

"So," I took a sip of my coffee. "Did you buy this?"

There was laughter in his voice when he answered.

"Not exactly."

I turned my back on the painting so that I could look at him as I asked him what he meant by that. But, when I turned around, he was so _close_. If I just lifted my head up the slightest bit, our lips would collide.

My eyes were locked with his own dark ones.

"Enough talk about work," he said in a husky tone.

I nodded my head soundlessly and eagerly followed him as he led me towards his couch where we spent an indeterminable amount of time kissing.

He lay on top of me with his weight balanced on his hands which were just inches away from my face.

I turned to kiss his wrist, on his pulse point, and caught sight of the clock as I did so. It was past midnight. Way past.

"Damn," I whispered, more to myself then to my boyfriend. "I have to go."

Jesse sighed and sat up.

"Alright," he sighed. "But I don't want you to, not yet."

"Me neither," I admitted, standing up and collecting my bag. "But I have to. Don't want to give a bad impression on my first day of work."

Jesse smiled and followed me into the hallway.

"You wont." He promised as his hands came to rest on my upper arms as he pulled me in for another kiss.

"See you tomorrow?" He asked me hesitantly, his forehead against mine as we pulled away breathing heavily.

"Of course," I pecked him quickly again before turning and letting myself into my apartment, offering him a smile as I shut the door and leaned against it happily.

This whole living opposite thing wasn't turning out to be as horribly embarrassing as I thought it would last week. In fact, it was actually quite convenient.


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N - Wow. Fifteen reviews for one chapter. I really, _really _can't tell you how much all your support means to me**

**Chapter goes out to Emily - or, as you know her, Moondancing Milly - who is an amazing best friend and a super author. She was also the person who introduced me to the mediator series - I had stopped reading after the first book. So, without her, there would be no 'The Guy Next Door'.**

**Thank you Emily!**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

_"Don't aim for success if you want it; just do what you love and believe in, and it will come naturally"_

_- David Frost ( English Journalist, 1939 - )_

I officially rock at this job. Not to sound big-headed, or anything, but … It's such an easy job to have.

All you do is sit around in an amazing office, looking at pictures of beautiful pieces of art and then decide whether or not you want them in an exhibition.

And, of course, whenever you have a break, you can take a stroll through the corridor of Hector de Silva's work. Or maybe that one was just me.

"Well," Paul's voice came from the doorway to my office. "You seem to be at home here."

I looked up from the page of art open in front of me.

"Oh," I rushed out. "I am."

I'd been here for more then a few hours already, and as much as I wanted to continue pouring over the mesmerising artwork some more, really I just wanted the clock to reach half past five, so that I could go home and get changed ready for six o'clock lunch with Jesse. I only had forty-five minutes left.

Paul raised his eyebrow at me in an alluring way.

"You've settled in rather quickly," he stated. "How can you feel so comfortable on your first day? Surely you should be nervous, or something like that."

I shook my head.

"I'm never nervous when it comes to Art, Mr. Slater." I told him as my eyes dropped to the open page once again. "I love it way too much."

His hand rested on the page I was looking at, blocking it from my sight, and as I looked up again he was right in front of me, his hard gaze driving into mine.

"Are you busy on Saturday night?" He inquired.

Oh my God. Was he asking me out?

"There's a new artist who I've been meaning to check out," He continued. "I would be forever grateful if you could come along and give me your opinions on his work."

Oh, phew.

"Of course," I smiled up at him, my relief over his non-asking me out evident on my face. "I'd be happy to help Mr. Slater."

"Please," he stood up properly and waved his hand in the air. "Call me Paul."

"Um, alright." I paused before adding, "Paul."

He smiled at me.

"Great." He genuinely looked pleased. "Now, due to your hard work today, I'm going to let you go early."

I felt a massive smile practically crack my cheeks.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed jumping up from my chair happily.

"No problem," he laughed. "God knows you've been looking at the clock often enough. What's the big event anyway."

"I have a date."

Good, now I had an opportunity to warn him not to ask me out, without saying so in so many words.

"Really?" A strange look settled on his face. "Would I know him?"

"I doubt it," I admitted before remembering what took place last night. "Oh, actually, you do! He told me last night."

Paul's eyebrow went up again. Actually, I doubted that it ever went down in the first place.

"Really?" He asked again. "What's his name?"

"Well," I laughed. "I don't really know his last name, but his first one's Jesse."

Suddenly, Paul stopped smiling, causing my own to falter.

"Jesse?" He repeated in a cold voice.

"Yeah," I continued hesitantly. "Get this, he has an original Hector de Silva painting in his living room. How amazing is that?"

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"Very." Was all he said.

I glanced at the clock during the silence that fell between us. It was coming up to five o'clock. Yes! Now I had an extra half an hour to put more time into looking perfect for Jesse.

"Well," I said as I shrugged on my coat and grabbed my bag. "I should really be going now."

"Yeah," Paul seemed to snap out of his state of animosity. "I suppose you should."

Though he didn't sound very happy about it.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He stated.

"Of course," I replied, smiling at him once more before I left the office.

Paul's reaction to Jesse's name was very strange. I'm pretty sure that Jesse acted the same way - only more gentlemanlike - as well.

The two of them had some type of history together. And I was determined to figure it out. But first, I had to get ready for our date.

-----

The hour I had to get ready was put to good use. That extra half an hour, which I had spent on my hair and make-up - the original half an hour going towards clothes and accessories - was so worth it when I opened the door to Jesse - at precisely six o'clock, when he'd knocked - and saw the look on his face.

"Wow." His eyes slowly met my own. "You look amazing."

"Thank you."

It only took me an hour, after all. I was quite proud of myself. A lot of girls took way longer then that to look half as good, if I can say so myself.

"You don't look too bad yourself." I added after getting a good look at the tuxedo he wore.

We were obviously going somewhere high-class.

Jesse took my arm and led me towards the restaurant. The downside to living in the Big Apple. Traffic was often so bad, most New Yorkers chose to walk everywhere.

The restaurant, I saw upon our arrival, was _very_ upscale. I had never set foot in a restaurant like this before. The closest I'd ever gotten to a place like this was The Grill, back in California. Only this was twice as posh.

"Jesse," I said hesitantly as I looked at the building. "I've never been to a place like this before. I don't know how to act."

"Relax," he replied, kissing my temple before leading me inside where we given our table straight away. They must have recognised him, or something, considering that they didn't ask his name. Or if he had reservations.

My eyes almost bulged out of my head when I saw the menu.

"How can you afford this?" I asked in a whisper.

Jesse laughed.

"Relax," he told me again. "I have a friend who works here. I just called in a favour, is all."

Well, that explains how we were seated straight away.

Despite his reassurances, I was still hesitant when it came to ordering and opted to go for the cheapest thing I could find on the menu. When Jesse realised this, he shook his head and ordered for me instead.

"I told you," he insisted. "I called in a favour. Don't worry about the cost."

A silence fell over the table after that. Not the type of uncomfortable silence that happened with me and Paul back at work, but a comfortable, we're-so-close-we-can-just-sit-and-look-at-each-other type of silence that was uncommon to experience on a sort-of first date.

Because let's face it, this was our first real first date.

The trip to the coffee house when I moved in had been a drink between neighbours - my thank you to Jesse for helping me move in. And last night had been a night out for friends. Granted, we came home more then that, but that's neither here nor there.

I broke the silence when the food arrived. It smelled delicious.

"You know you said you went to college with Paul Slater?" I asked in my not-so-subtle attempt at finding out the reason the two hated each other.

"Yes." Jesse gritted his teeth, obviously not wanting to talk about it on our date.

"What exactly happened between the two of you?"

"That," Jesse stubbornly continued cutting his meat. "Is a story for another time."

"But -"

He cut me off.

"You put off telling me about your job," he smiled. "Did you not?"

"Well, yes." I admitted. "But -"

"Ah," he interrupted. "You refrained from telling me that story, I shall refrain from telling you this one."

"But I told you afterwards."

"And I shall tell you," He looked up and smiled at me. "Just not now."

Grudgingly I admitted defeat, picking up my knife and fork and digging into my meal.

"I'll hold you to that." I told him.

"I have no doubt that you will."

I smiled at him as he smiled back. The rest of the evening past without another reference to Paul Slater, and ended with a goodnight kiss that had my heart soaring.


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N - Okay, that was probably the worst place to stop. I'm sorry. But I promise an update by Friday at the latest.**

**Thanks to Emily for giving me the quote. I'm thinking your other one will be next chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_"People, prepare to have your spines tingled and your gooses bumped by the terrifying…" _

_- Nicholas Brendon as Xander Harris on Buffy the Vampire Slayer (American Actor 1971 - )_

I never knew how perfect watching a movie could be until I watched one with Jesse. Hey, I'm still in the new-relationship stage, I'm allowed to be corny.

But seriously, snuggled up on Jesse's couch, his arms wrapped around me as he periodically kissed my hair and moved his arms up and down mine when I shivered, really is the best way to watch a film.

Even if afterwards you have no idea what it is you just saw.

Which is what the case was with me when Jesse turned off the film and turned me to face him.

"That was a good film, wasn't it?" He whispered to me deeply.

I could only nod.

He laughed, obviously knowing that I hadn't been paying attention. It was strange how he could read me like that.

"Come on," he pushed me towards the edge of the sofa, forcing me to stand up. "You should get home."

"But it's still early!" I whined. It's not like it took me forever to get home anyway.

"We can see each other tomorrow," he placated me with a soft kiss on my nose.

Okay, I giggled.

Before instantly sobering up.

"Oh," I gasped. "We kind of … can't see each other tomorrow."

Jesse pursed his lips.

"And why not?" he asked smoothly.

Now I was caught between a rock and a hard place, figuratively speaking. Really, I was caught between Jesse's tensed arms - which was quite a good place to be.

"Well," I began. "Paul asked me to go with him to a studio tomorrow night. To check out the artist's work."

"Does it really have to be tomorrow _night_?" Jesse demanded, running a hand through his hair in aggravation.

"I don't know," I shrugged honestly. "When he asked me, I didn't pay much attention. I was way too relieved that he didn't ask me out on a date."

I knew I'd said too much when Jesse's grip on me tightened further.

"You were relieved?" He practically seethed. "As in, he had shown signs that made you fear he was going to ask you?"

"Um," I squeaked. "Yes?"

Jesse's breath came out in short puffs.

"Susannah," his eyes fell shut. It was kind of strange to hear him say my whole name. Since we'd been going out - like, officially - he'd only called me querida. "When did he ask you?"

"A few days ago." I replied dismissively.

"Querida," that was better. "When?"

"The day of our first real date." My voice was so quiet I could barely hear it. Was I wrong in not telling Jesse about it? It was just a work-thing after all.

Jesse's eyes shot open in alarm.

"And you've just waited until now to tell me?" He demanded.

Now I was just getting mad.

"Jesse," I said, reining in my anger. "It's just a work thing. No harm, no fowl."

"Querida," Jesse pulled me to him and kissed me, before abruptly pulling back. "You don't know Paul like I do."

Oh yeah, there was _definitely _a history there.

"Just," his eyes fell shut again. "Just promise me that you wont be alone with him? Always make sure this artist is in the room, okay?"

He looked so pained at the thought, what else could I do but agree?

"I promise," I swore. "I promise I will never be alone with him."

"Thank you, querida." He whispered into my hair. "Thank you."

We left his apartment and kissed as we stood outside of my door.

"Thank you," he said again, pulling away from me and backing towards his door, smiling gently before shutting it behind him.

Someone had better tell me what was going on between those two. And they had better tell me soon.

---------

Fear crawled up my spine when I returned to work Saturday night. All through the day, the tingles had been there growing more and more concentrated every time I thought about what Jesse had said.

'_You don't know Paul like I do.'_

What did that mean?

"Hey, ready to go?" Paul cheerily interrupted my thoughts.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Let's roll."

Paul laughed and put his arm around my shoulders, which I shrugged out of. Unaffected by my brush-off, he just shoved his hands in his coat pocket.

"You look pretty tonight."

"Oh," that was unexpected. "I'm going to see Jesse afterward."

I congratulated myself. For being able to push in the fact that I had a boyfriend already, without sounding completely obvious whilst doing so.

"I see," Paul frowned.

Geez, what is it with these two?

When we were out on the main street, Paul hailed down a cab. I panicked. Would it count as being alone with Paul? Because I really don't want to break my promise to Jesse. The whole minute we had spent alone in the gallery doesn't count. Or would the cab driver make it alright?

I pasted a smile on my face as I slid in the car, ahead of Paul who followed after telling the cab driver where to go - an address which sounded suspiciously close by. Couldn't we have just walked rather then be stuck in the Saturday Night traffic?

It was as Paul pressed up as close to me as he could get away with, without me falling out of the door, that I started to see what Jesse was on about.

Paul was turning out to be kind of a slime ball.

"I'm sure you'll love this guy's work, Suze," he was telling me excitedly. "He simulates typical New York scenes - bars, coffee shops, you name it!"

So I was giving up my first Saturday night with Jesse as my boyfriend … to see some guy who built things anybody could see if they walked down the street? Joy.

"Great," the fake smile never left my face.

"And," Paul continued. "Get this. He goes out to the places he's recreated - like, say, a bar - and he'll bring back something to add to the effect. Coasters, napkins, girls phone numbers - that type of thing."

My eyebrow went way up.

"So this guy," I asked, "uses his art as an excuse to pick girls up?"

Paul's face crumpled.

"Well," he mused. "I can see how it would sound that way - but it's not like that at all. Just try it, alright?"

I just made a vague agreeing noise and turned my head to look out of the window. Darn New York traffic.

Finally, we arrived at this artist's studio but, instead of knocking, Paul just walked right in.

"Oh," the smirk on his face was positively devious. "Did I not tell you? The guy is in Hawaii, he gave me a key and told me to go right on up. You know, take in the art without the artist himself pushing it on you. That way we can make the choice solely on our opinions."

My throat closed up and my heart pounded in my chest.

Alone? All night? With Paul? I was counting on the artist being here to keep my promise.

"Suze," Paul called to me. "Aren't you coming?"

Nodding my head, I shakily followed him inside the dark, daunting studio.

I'm sorry Jesse, I tried to keep my promise.

The door slammed shut heavily, making me jump.

I heard a chuckle from behind me and turned hesitantly to face Paul, only to find his hands had trapped my face and his eyes smouldered into mine, before he shut them and leaned down to kiss me.


	8. Chapter 8

**A.N - Wow. Last chapter had a hell of a lot of reviews. Maybe I should leave cliffhangers more often. Thanks to everyone. **

**Who else is doing the Harry Potter thing tonight? Emily's coming to pick me up and then we're off to Tesco. :D**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_"He who angers you conquers you."_

_- Elizabeth Kenny (Australian Nurse 1880 - 1952)_

His lips brushed mine for the briefest of seconds before I regained my senses and jerked backwards, into the shut door.

"Paul!" I shouted. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I have a boyfriend!"

"Jesse." Paul sneered.

"Yes." I repeated. "Jesse."

Paul turned cold eyes on my own.

"Why are you with him anyway Suze?" He demanded. "What does he have that I don't?"

"It's not that Paul," I sighed. "It's not that at all. It's just … I really, really like Jesse. I only see you as my boss."

Paul took a step closer to me, pressing me up against the door.

"And," he wanted to know, "did it ever occur to you, that '_Jesse_' may have been lying to you all this time?"

My hands started to shake with my anger. Paul did not get to talk about my boyfriend this way.

"Why would he Paul?" I asked. "What possible reason does Jesse have to lie to me about?"

Paul took another step closer so that our chests were pushed against each other. I had to crane my neck up to even try to see his face in the dark.

"Oh, I don't know," Paul's head turned down to look at me. "How about himself?"

My eyes narrowed.

"Get away from me Paul," I hissed, pushing him when he remained still.

With a sigh, Paul pushed his hand against the wall and the room was filled with a crackle of electricity and the burning of a light bulb so bright, I winced.

"Now," I walked as far away from Paul as I could possibly get in the cramped room. "Tell me what you mean. Why would Jesse lie to me about himself?"

Paul's eyes stared a hold through me.

"What's his last name?"

I froze. Four simple little words that sent cold shivers all through me. I didn't know the answer. I didn't know my own boyfriend's last name.

"My point exactly."

I felt tears well up in my eyes. Could Paul actually be right about all of this?

"Well, then Mr. I-know-everything," I spat in order to hide my tears. Paul could not know that he was getting to me. "What is Jesse's last name?"

"Oh no," Paul held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "As much as I would love to tell you, and break up this stupid new-relationship thing you guys have going on, you're going to have to ask him."

I closed my eyes and cringed as I felt a tear escape down my cheek.

"See?" Paul was suddenly right in front of me again, using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the lone tear. "He made you cry. A man who makes you cry doesn't deserve you."

My teeth were tightly gritted together.

"He's not the one who made me cry," I rasped out, shooting a pointed look in Paul's direction.

Paul laughed outright at that and his hands came to grip my upper arm.

"Get off of me, Paul!" I warned. "If you don't, I'll scream."

"Oh," his eyebrow raised. "I bet you will. In fact, I wouldn't expect anything less."

"So…?" I left the sentence hanging.

But Paul didn't move. He just stared at me. And I watched helplessly as his eyes darkened.

"But I don't think you will. Not now."

He told me right before smashing his lips to my own. This time lasted way longer. My arms were pinned heavily to my side so I couldn't push him away. I opened my mouth to scream but Paul just took the opportunity as an excuse to stick his tongue in my mouth.

Finally, I went to my last resort and lifted my knee straight into where it hurts.

"Christ!" Paul swore, curling up on the floor in the foetal position with his hands cupped around his groin. "What did you do that for?"

"I warned you," I told him as I stormed past him and outside into the cold New York weather.

Stupid Paul Slater. I walked along the cold streets that took me towards my apartment block. Jesse was right about him.

Thinking about Jesse only caused me to get more confused. Paul was right when he said that I didn't know his last name, but that was all. Jesse had no reason to lie to me, did he?

I walked up the steps to my apartment silently, not wanting Jesse to know what had happened. If Jesse ever found out about what Paul had just done, he would have been ready to murder him.

God, how stupid could I have gotten. Of course there was no artist. Or, rather, there was but Paul just hadn't taken me to the right apartment.

I fell asleep on my sofa in the clothes I had worn out. My dreams were plagued with thoughts of what could have happened had I not stopped Paul. I woke up several times during the night in a cold sweat only to go back to the nightmares the second I closed my eyes again.

I had never been so happy to wake up before.

------

When I woke up, I stretched and smiled. Sunday. It was Sunday. My first day off since starting work at the Slater Gallery.

And I was so, so glad that I didn't have to see Paul after what had happened the night before.

After quickly washing, brushing my teeth and changing my clothes I left my apartment in search of an internet café. Today was going to be the day I find out the history of Hector de Silva - Painter Extraordinaire.

It took me a while, but several blocks - and apologies to the many people I had ran into - I finally found this quaint little coffee shop/internet café. I ordered an espresso and waited for the computer to boot up.

I felt the tingles of excitement take over me. Hector de Silva would be a mystery to me no more.

I loaded up the search engine and took a sip of my newly-arrived drink as I typed in the artist's name.

As I'd expected, there weren't many results.

Clicking the most popular, I waited with bated breath for the page to load.

The breath whooshed out of me in a spurt of disappointment as I realised the page was just the artist profile page for the people who were displayed in my very own Slater Gallery. I scanned through the contents nevertheless. Hopefully I'd find out something.

-----

Half an hour later, I had. Hector de Silva was born in Spain and was the oldest child of a large family of children - the exact number not having been confirmed. His family was rich though. Hector's father had made a fortune in the oil industry.

Hector, it seemed, moved around a lot when he was growing up but had a love of art throughout his childhood years, finally putting it into practise.

And, get this, his first ever attempt at painting resulted in the painting of the lake which was hung up in the exhibition. Seriously. That was the first time Hector de Silva picked up a paintbrush. The first time ... and he created a masterpiece.

The first time I picked up a paintbrush, it was to paint half of a butterfly, fold it over and then open it to reveal a swirling mess of colour.

Logging off of the computer and paying the bill for the connection as well as the two drinks I'd had, I left the shop and made the way back to my apartment.

There hadn't been a picture of the artist himself, just of his work. I couldn't help but feel slightly put out about that.

I had reached the stairwell outside of the third floor when I ran into someone.

"Hey," it was Jesse. "Do you have a habit of running into everyone, or am I just special?"

I leaned up to kiss him.

"You're special," I murmured. "You know that."

He smiled and puffed his chest out with pride.

"I didn't hear you come in last night," he said with a frown on his face. "How did it go with Paul?"

I pushed my head into his chest so he couldn't see my eyes.

"Oh," I lied. "It went fine. I didn't like the guy's work - Paul loved it. End of story."

"So you were never alone with him?" Jesse wanted to know.

"No." I could feel my voice rising to twice its normal pitch.

"This artist was there with you the entire time?"

"Yep."

Oh my god. I just lied to my boyfriend. I am the worst girlfriend ever. I'm doing exactly what Paul accused Jesse of doing to me!

"Good," Jesse crushed me to him in a protective hug. "I was so scared all night. I thought Paul would try something."

I pulled away.

"Well, he didn't." The smile on my face probably looked about as fake as it actually was.

"Now," Jesse wrapped his arm around my waist and led me out of the building. "How about we go on that date that we were suppose to have last night, hmm?"

My smile was real now. Dates with Jesse were always good.

"I'd like that."

The whole thing with Paul was practically forgotten by the time Jesse and I returned home.


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N - Man, Hary Potter was amazing. Despite how much it made me cry.**

**Thank you to everyone who left a review last chapter. It really does surprise me how much you all like this fic. Hope you like this chapter just as much.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_"It takes two to lie. One to lie and one to listen." _

_- Dan Castellaneta as Homer Simpson on The Simpsons ( American Actor 1957 - )_

It couldn't be forgotten the next day mind. When I had to go to work.

Nevertheless, I held my head up high as I walked into the Slater Gallery. Paul Slater was not going to have anything over me. I was going to walk in - take a look around Hector de Silva's exhibition. Well, I had to. It's going down in three more days - and go straight to my office.

That was my plan. And I fully intended to go through with it. Until I saw the person sitting behind the desk in reception.

"Well, well, well," she drawled, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Look what the cat dragged in."

"Ah, Suze," Paul was smiling at me as if I hadn't, possibly, ruined his chance to have children on Saturday night. "I see you've met our new receptionist. This is Kelly Prescott."

"Um, hi," I stuttered as she moved each of her fingers individually forward in a wave.

Oh, I knew Kelly Prescott, alright. After all, I was Vice President to her Class President back in California. I thought I'd finally gotten rid of her once I'd graduated from the Junipero Mission Academy and moved across the country to New York. Apparently, I had no such luck.

"She's new here in New York," Paul continued. "Quite like you." He added. "I'd be grateful if you could show her around."

"Sure," I agreed. What else could I do? "But first, I have to go sort out a few things. Excuse me."

And without another word, I raced towards my office.

Oh. My. God. What the hell is Kelly Prescott doing here?

I was under the impression that she was going to stay in California. Or, at least closer to the sun. Everybody knows that New York is about as far from the sun as you can get.

This was not good. Kelly Prescott could not be working here. She'd hated me back in High School. I'm pretty sure that now wasn't going to be any different.

"Suze?" Paul's voice came from my door. "Listen, about Saturday night. I -"

"No," I interrupted him. "No. We are not going to bring that up again. I'm never going on another 'work related outing' with you again. Saturday night will _never _have a chance to be repeated. I won't let it."

"Yeah, I get that," Paul continued. "I just wanted to ask you if you had told your boyfriend about it?"

"What?" I was outraged. He didn't come to apologise, he was just here to save his own skin. "No, I didn't. But I'm starting to think I should have. How dare you?!"

Paul looked confused.

"How dare I what?"

"You come here," I stood and hissed all of my words at him. It would do no good having the entire gallery hear what was going on - and there was no way I was shutting my door. "When you should be grovelling at my feet for forgiveness, and instead, you just want to know if you should hide from Jesse?"

Paul's eyes widened.

"Suze," he started. "I am sorry, you don't know how much. I just -"

A knock at the door stopped him and he shut his eyes in defeat.

"Yes?" He snapped turning around to glare at the intruder. It was Kelly.

"Oh," she raised her nails as she looked at them, "sorry to interrupt. Paul, you have a visitor."

"Mr. Slater," he reminded her. Looks like she wasn't as highly regarded as I was when I came here. Which might have been a good thing - I couldn't tell. He sighed before continuing. "Who is it?"

"Um," she paused as she tried to remember. "Hector somebody or other."

Oh. My. God!

"De Silva?" I asked excitedly. "Hector de Silva?"

"Yeah," Kelly's face was twisted into an expression that screamed 'loser, much?'. "That's the guy. He's kind of cute."

I squealed and Paul looked at me, alarmed.

"Thanks," he directed at Kelly. "Ask him to wait for me in my office."

"You have to let me meet him!" I demanded to Paul as soon as Kelly had gone. "Please, Paul."

"Suze," He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I really have to say this, about Saturday -"

"I promise," I told him. "You let me meet Mr. De Silva, and it will be forgotten. I won't tell Jesse, or anybody."

Paul's eyes fell shut even as his lips twisted upwards in a devious grin.

"Alright." He smiled. "Deal."

Then he left the room quickly, leaving me alone practically hyperventilating. I was going to meet Hector de Silva!

--------

I decided to spend the next part of my day doing some floor work. It gave me a better view of Paul's office - whose windows were, unfortunately, tinted - and I could hear parts of their conversation as well.

It didn't seem to be going very well though. The only voices I could hear coming from Paul's office were raised.

Paul and Hector were arguing about God knows what.

"What's the matter, de Silva?" I heard Paul jeer loudly. "Can't handle it?"

"Of course I can," This guy's Spanish accent was really distinguishable when he was shouting. "I'll tell her. You just stay away, got me?"

Oooh, there was a 'her' involved. I didn't know whether to feel intrigued, or disappointed.

Paul's part of the conversation was lost as I pondered over Hector's last sentence. _You just stay away_. Stay away from what? From who?

Busying myself with offering assistance to possible buyers, I was glad when they all shook their heads furiously. It meant I could eavesdrop on the rather heated conversation that was taking place.

"I am not letting you get hold of her like you did my sister!"

Hector's voice was shaking with his rage, which just piqued my interest. What had happened to his sister? There had been no family history on his profile.

I heard the bang of a door slamming against the wall echo through the gallery, and turned my head immediately. It would not do to get caught eavesdropping.

"Now, Mr de Silva," I heard Paul's voice as if he'd never been shouting just a minute before. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kelly Prescott look as confused as I did. "Before you leave, I have someone who wishes to meet you."

I heard footsteps coming closer to me. Of course, they could just be the public, adoring Hector de Silva's paintings. But, I'm allowed to hope right?

"There she is." Paul's voice was close behind me, this time I definitely heard the right footsteps get closer.

"Susannah Simon," he introduced as my back was still facing the two of them. I heard Hector choke as Paul said my name, which didn't exactly install much hope in me. "This is Hector de Silva. Hector, my art director, Suze."

I turned around then, finally ready to meet the man who had painted these amazing pictures in front of me.

Breathe, Suze. I had to keep repeating to myself. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

I made the turn and raised my eyes up to look at the artist …

… Only to feel my mouth drop open in shock.

There, in front of me was Hector de Silva, painter of many beautiful things. Or, as I knew him, Jesse. The guy next door.


	10. Chapter 10

**A.N - Man, I saw this painting that looks almost exactly like the one I described in Chapter 2. I was shocked. Amazing what happens when you go to Blackpool. Please bear with me on this chapter. Have faith in me!**

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**Chapter 10**

_"Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad." _

_- Aldous Huxley (English writer 1894 - 1963)_

Jesse looked uncomfortable. Well, so he should. Here we are, standing in front of what I think is his best painting, and I've just been told that my _boyfriend _is the artist that I fell in love with on my first day here.

And Paul Slater was the one to tell me the truth.

Suddenly, I was angry. Though at Paul more then Jesse - even so, Jesse was definitely not going to get away with this. Just, right now, I was going to focus my anger on Paul, who was standing next to Jesse, chuckling.

"You." I spat at him, causing him to stop abruptly mid-chuckle and for Jesse's face to twist into a confused expression. "You knew all along. Every time I told you I had a date with Jesse - every time I told you how much I loved Hector de Silva's paintings - you knew! And you never told me!"

"I thought you'd rather _Jesse_ tell you," Paul shot back, spitting out Jesse's name as if it were poison.

My eyes narrowed and I took a step closer to Paul. And another, and another, until Jesse's arms snatched around my waist to prevent me from getting _too_ close.

"Our deal?" I reminded him, probably unwisely, considering who's arms I was in. "Yeah, it's so off. You didn't 'let me meet' Hector de Silva at all. I already knew him, and you knew it."

I paused as I realised something.

"You only agreed because you thought that it would get me to keep Saturday night a secret." I was sure of this. "Well, guess what Paul? That's not going to happen."

Jesse's grip around my waist had been tightening all through my speech and only now did he speak up.

"What deal?" He asked. "What happened Saturday night? Susannah, what happened?"

His words were cold and precise, tinged with concern. Which just made me feel all the more bad. He'd called me Susannah - not querida. The last time he did that, it had been to warn me of Paul Slater. And look how well that turned out.

"Well, Suze," Paul's grin made look positively evil. "Seeing as our deal's off, I think you should tell him."

I froze. The weight of both men's stares on me made me nervous.

"Either you do, Suze," Paul warned. "Or I do."

See now, that didn't really give me much of a choice. Paul was bound to make it sound more then it was.

Taking a deep breath, I turned in Jesse's arms so that I was facing him.

"What happened Saturday night, Susannah?" His voice was quieter, upset.

"Well," I hesitated. This was going to crush him. "He kissed me."

Jesse's grip tightened, his teeth clenched and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

"You said that you were never alone with him," he reminded me.

"Another little white lie," I admitted. "The artist went to Hawaii, and left Paul a key to the studio."

Jesse nodded, taking in everything I just told him, his gaze focused on something over my shoulder. I can just see Paul's smirking face.

"So, tell me something _Jesse_," Paul wanted to know from behind me. "Does she sigh when you kiss her, too?"

Why that little! I'm going to kill him. Rubbing salt in an open wound. I turned around ready to go and slap him, only to find that there was nobody keeping me encompassed in his strong arms.

Jesse had set me aside and raced over to Paul, and punched him.

Paul had no chance. He was down on the floor like a ton of bricks.

"Slater, _yo mataria tu_," Jesse said whilst punching Paul's jaw. "You promised me, not five minutes ago, that you'd stay away from her."

"Well," Paul countered. "I didn't promise that I hadn't already done something, had I?"

A noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl made it's way out of Jesse's mouth. And, whilst it sounded hot, chances are, what followed it wasn't going to be as good.

Plus, everybody in the Gallery at the time was now watching the two of them. Kelly had even stopped filing her nails.

I think it was time to break up the fight.

"Guys!" I called, stepping in between the two of them. "Guys, stop it."

I grabbed Jesse's arms - because he looked the most likely to launch into another attack - leaving Paul free to do what he wanted. Which was attempt to hit Jesse again.

"Suze," he complained. "Get out of the way. I need to finish this."

Then he reached out and shoved my shoulder. My eyes widened in shock and Jesse, who I'd been pushed into, growled again.

Paul froze as well as he realised what he'd done.

"Suze, I'm sorry," he apologised. "I didn't mean to, it was an accident."

"No, you meant to," I told him. "'Get out of the way. I need to finish this.' That's what you said."

"Listen, Suze, it's not like that."

I jerked backwards at the sight of his hand coming to rest upon my shoulder.

Jesse pushed me behind him as he saw Paul's action as well as mine to it.

"You stay away. For real, this time." Jesse warned.

"She works here, genius. I can't stay away from her," Paul argued.

"Try really hard," Jesse hissed as he laced his fingers in my own and gently began pulling me towards the exit, leaving Paul to the mess that both of them had created.

I waited until we were a block away before yanking my hand out of his own.

"You lied to me Jesse," I reminded him taking a step backwards.

"You lied to me too!" He retorted. "You said you were never alone with him, that nothing happened, after I specifically told you to always make sure that there was someone else in the room with you."

"It was work, Jesse!" I whisper-shouted, not wanting to let the whole of New York know my problem. "He's not going to try anything at work. Besides, I'm a big girl now, you don't have to tell me what to do."

"Querida," Oh, so now we're back to the pet names. "I know you are, I don't want to tell you what to do. But, you know that I knew him in college. I know Paul Slater better than you do. I know what he's like!"

He looked so frustrated as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well, maybe he's changed since college."

Jesse laughed humourlessly.

"Yeah," he said. "Only he proved today that he hasn't."

Jesse paused for an indeterminable amount of time. My gaze was everywhere but on him.

"Why did you lie to me, querida?" He wanted to know.

"I knew you'd react like this." I told him. "And seeing as I like my job, I didn't want to get fired."

Jesse laughed again. Coldly.

"Oh, you won't be fired," He stated. "Slater desires you too much to fire you. Don't worry, Susannah, tomorrow, you'll be sitting in your _amazing _office, able to look at my _beautiful_ paintings, whenever you wish."

"Which brings you back to your lie," I reminded him. I can't believe we were having this conversation on a New York sidewalk. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jesse opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted him.

"And don't say you were scared, or anything like that. I told you how much I loved them, and you still led me to believe that you were simply someone who loved Hector de Silva's paintings as much as I did."

"Querida," He began. "I'm sorry. Really, truly sorry. Sorry for lying to you, sorry for you finding out this way. Just, believe me when I tell you, I wanted you to get to know me, the guy, rather then me, the artist.

"You wont believe how many times I've told girls that I like to paint, that I'm an artist, and then they only stick around to see if I would paint them so that they can be displayed in a top-notch gallery. It happens, querida."

His voice was shaking.

"I should have known that you'd be different. You, with your degree in Art and your genuine interest in all things beautiful. I got scared, okay? Is that the answer you wanted? I didn't tell you that I painted those paintings, because I was scared. Scared that you'd only see me as an artist. And not as me."

It was when he was struggling to keep in his tears that I realised he wasn't going to say anymore. That I should stop him now.

I walked over to him slowly keeping my gaze determinedly on the floor. One look at him and there was no way that I'd be able to say what I wanted to.

When I got close enough, I wrapped him in a hug.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," I whispered into his ear as his arms came around my waist and crushed me to him possessively. "I am. And I forgive you for lying to me. Let's just say, we both have our reasons, okay?"

I felt Jesse nod against my neck.

"But," I went on. "I still feel that, maybe, we should take a break?"

Jesse snapped his head away from my embrace and looked at me.

"What?" He asked, tear tracks stained his face but there were none in his eyes.

"Just, maybe, a week or two?" I felt stupid now. I was breaking up with this guy, why exactly? He was smart, funny, extremely fun to be around, an amazing painter.

But, I had to try and think of the lie that had hung between us throughout all of our relationship. I had to see behind it, and know the real Jesse.

Jesse nodded acceptingly when I told him.

"I'm sorry," I kissed his cheek and stepped away awkwardly not sure of what to do or say now. "Well, bye."

"Can I at least walk you home?" He smiled. "I'm going there anyway."

I smiled too. Ah, good old Gentleman Jesse.

"No, it's okay," I told him. "I'm not going to go straight home."

Jesse nodded again and paused before he jogged the few steps between us and wrapped me in another tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Me too."

Then he pulled away and began walking down the street.

I shut my eyes and turned in the opposite direction to him - the space between us growing farther and farther apart.


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N - So, I figure you all hate me for last chapter? I'm sorry. Here's the next update anyway.**

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**Chapter 11**

_"There will be other guys, who will whisper in your ear,_

_Say they'll take away your sadness and your fear,_

_They may be kind and true,_

_They may be good to you,_

_But they'll never care for you more then I do."_

_- James Marsters with Ghost of the Robot in their song Good Night Sweet Girl ( American Actor and Singer 1962 - )_

The week that followed was probably the worst week of my life. Every footstep I heard on the stairs had my heart racing, thinking it was Jesse and that he'd come to knock on my door. More often then not, the footsteps just carried on up more flights of stairs.

Once or twice, the footsteps I heard _was_ Jesse and I'd hear the jingle of his keys and a pause before he unlocked the door and let himself in.

Even if he did knock, it's not like I would have answered the door.

I'd been leaving for work too early, and coming home too late, just so I wouldn't have the opportunity to talk to him.

Despite all of this, I missed him. I wanted my boyfriend back.

A knock at the door interrupted my lazy Sunday afternoon television fest. It was a thankful day off after a week of putting up with an extremely 'apologetic' Paul Slater.

"I'm so sorry if I caused you any hurt," he'd said every time I'd walked into the gallery for work. "But you did say you wanted to meet him."

I brushed him off without a word every time and he'd taken to flirting with Ms. Prescott, who welcomed his advances. I doubt she knew that he was just paying attention to her to get back at me, to make me jealous - Kelly Prescott thought she was the centre of every guy's universe.

I answered the door in my comfy sweats and tank top - hey, it's not like I was going anywhere, or out with anyone. Thanks to my stupid decision to take a break.

I was regretting that more and more.

"Nice outfit," Cee Cee raised her eyebrow on the other side of the door before barging into my apartment.

"Come on in." I muttered shutting the door and turning to face her.

"Listen," she started. "I get that he lied to you - hell, if Adam lied to me, I'd be furious - but, I miss my friend. He's been moping around this past week, not answering his phone, ignoring people knocking at the door. So, you are going to get ready to go out, we are going to hit the town, and then, hopefully, with a bit of liquid courage, you'll march up to his door, demand to be let in and kiss him full on the lips."

I just stared at her, with my mouth open, I'm sure.

"Come again?" I said intelligently.

Cee Cee just rolled her eyes.

"Get in there," she spoke whilst pushing me to my bedroom, "and come out looking hot."

I glared at the shut door.

This was suppose to be my day off. My Sunday afternoon to lie around and feel sorry for myself! Well, Sunday evening now I guess.

"Stupid Cee Cee," I mumbled whilst pulling on my jeans. "Sticking her nose into other people's business."

Half an hour later, after doing my hair and make -up, I finally left the safety of my bedroom and went to face the inspection of the brutal Cee Cee Wells.

"Yes," she nodded approvingly. "He won't be able to keep his eyes off of you."

"Who wont?" I said apprehensively. "Cee Cee, I'm warning you now, if Jesse's there, I'll just -"

"Pssshaw," Cee Cee made a hand gesture which basically told me to shut up and follow her.

She led me out of my apartment and rolled her eyes when my gaze landed on Jesse's door, as it did every time I entered and left the building.

"Please," Cee Cee stated. "You two are meant to be together. I haven't seen him this upset since his move here from New Mexico."

Oh, I'd forgotten Cee Cee had told me about that. His girlfriend - nay _fiancée _- running off with his best friend. I suppose that little lie I'd told about Paul and I had to be just as bad for him to hear. Possibly worse. Considering this time it was his girlfriend and his enemy.

That just made me feel horrible. Poor Jesse.

I followed Cee Cee blindly through the streets of New York, paying no attention to where we were going as I had my epiphany.

Who cares if Jesse lied to me? He had his reasons and, besides, the paintings _were _beautiful. I should be proud to have such an amazing artist as my boyfriend.

I dug my heels into the crowd, forcing Cee Cee to turn to look at me frustrated.

"What now?" She wanted to know.

"I need to find Jesse," I told her. "Now."

She smiled even as she rolled her eyes _again_, and flipped her pale hair over her shoulder.

"Duh," she grabbed my hand and started leading me to our destination again. "That's where we're going. It was Adam's job to get Jesse down here, and I heard them leave about ten minutes before you decided to grace me with your presence after getting changed."

My smile practically split my face.

"Really?"

Cee Cee nodded.

The two minutes it took to reach the bar, which I recognised as the place I'd first met Cee Cee and Adam, felt like hours to me.

I wanted time to fast forward to after I had apologised profusely to Jesse for being such an idiot. What had I been thinking? It had been such a stupid reason to 'take a break'. God, I could kick myself.

Cee Cee pulled me into the bar with a triumphant look on her face and she winked at her boyfriend who was sitting at the bar before going to join him.

Adam saw me and waved before pointing towards Jesse's table and mouthing 'Go get him, girl.'

Blushing pink, I made my way over to the table where Jesse was sitting sullenly.

Okay Suze, I told myself. You can do this. You can.

I sat down on the empty stool and frowned when Jesse didn't even lift his head to see who I was.

"Hey," I said quietly. "It's me."

Jesse's head jerked upwards.

"Susannah?" He asked whilst I smiled and nodded, causing a big grin to fix his face. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

"Ask your friends," I waved a hand in the direction of the bar and Jesse's gaze followed to see Cee Cee and Adam trying not to look over.

He smiled.

"I wondered what Adam was up to." Jesse explained. "He just barged in and dragged me here."

"Cee Cee gave me half an hour to get changed," I told him my version causing him to laugh deeply.

I had missed him. So, so much.

"How's work been?" He asked me suddenly, though I could tell it really translated to 'Has Paul been treating you right?'

"Work's fine," I told him. "Paul's started hanging all over the receptionist so I can pretty much do my own thing."

He nodded and looked back down at his drink.

"Why didn't you come in?" At his confused look I explained more. "When they took down your exhibition. The artist usually comes in to collect their paintings, the ones that didn't sell. I didn't see you."

Jesse looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Go over what you just said," he told me.

I frowned as I thought over my words.

'_The artist usually comes in to collect their paintings, the ones that didn't sell._'

A grin overtook my face.

"You sold all of your paintings?" He smiled and nodded. "That's wonderful!"

I threw my arms around him and basked in the comfort of his arms coming to wrap around my waist in return.

We stayed like that for who knows how long, before I finally broke the silence.

"I missed you," I whispered into his ear.

"I missed you too," he breathed into my own before pulling away and staring at me.

"Come on," he pleaded. "I want to show you something."

I nodded and followed him out of the door, my hand snuggled warmly in his own.

"Hey!" Adam called. "You could at least pay for the drink! Considering I helped get you two back together again."

Jesse ignored him with a chuckle and we walked leisurely back to our apartment block.

It was almost as if we'd never broken up. _Almost_. I still had to get used to the fact that I was dating - and living next door to - the best artist in New York. In my opinion anyway.

When reached his front door, Jesse unlocked it and let me in ahead of him.

"Take a seat," he smiled and I did as he asked.

"Close your eyes," he added playfully, interrupting me as I started to object. "Please."

Giving in, I nodded and shut my eyes.

I heard the scuffle of Jesse moving about his apartment and then felt the sink of the couch as he sat next to me.

I shivered as his hands came to wrap around my eyes.

"Open your eyes," he told me.

I did so, only to find myself no more aware then I was before.

"Jesse!" I complained and with a chuckle he removed his hands.

Right in front of me, on the coffee table, propped up by the wall, was a painting. A painting of me, signed at the bottom by HDS. Hector de Silva.

"Jesse," I breathed. "This is amazing. You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged sheepishly.

"In our break," the way he looked at me as he said the word made me cringe and avoid his gaze, "I missed you so much, and seeing as I didn't see you," another blush, "I decided to paint you instead."

"I'm hardly paint-worthy." I told him, embarrassed.

"To me you are." Jesse spoke passionately and as his eyes locked with mine, all thought of the painting was gone as I instead focused on Jesse.

"Does this mean we're back together?" He whispered teasingly against my lips.

"Uh-huh."

And to seal it, I raised my lips to his own and kissed him.

"Stay here tonight?" He whispered, pulling away from our kiss, only to have me pull him back in.

"Of course."

And with a smile, Jesse pulled me up to his chest on the couch and pulled a blanket around us.

My head was tucked under his chin and his arms held me protectively, almost possessively, to him.

"Night," he whispered, kissing my temple. "Sweet dreams."

I sighed and fell asleep soon afterwards.

With Jesse holding me, my dreams would be nothing but sweet.


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N - For those few of you who actually read the quotes, guess what today's one means. Lol. **

**This chapter led to a conversation between Me and Moondancing Millie about Bagels. She likes hers toasted. I've never had one. :)**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter - I still can't believe the response this fic is getting.**

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**Chapter 12**

_"The only sure thing about luck is that it will change." _

_- Wilson Mizner (American playwright, raconteur and entrepreneur 1876 - 1933)_

Waking up in Jesse's arms was, well, perfect. I was woken to his lips pressing soft kisses against my hair and his hands running up and down my arms.

"Come on querida," he whispered. "Time to wake up."

I yawned and turned to look at him. Our noses were barely an inch apart.

"Don't want to." I complained. It seemed I never wanted to leave his house.

"You have to," he told me with a smile on his face. "So that we can go get some breakfast, then I can take you to work, and make sure Paul knows we're together again."

I smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"You know, I really do hate the thought of you working there," he admitted. "It's just hours every day when Paul has every opportunity to get you alone and just …"

He trailed off with a frown.

"It's the time of the day when I can't be with you," he started again after a pause. "I can't let him know to stay away."

"Why do you hate him, anyway?" I asked the question he'd never given me an answer to on our first date. "You said that it was a story for another time. Well, it's another time."

He smiled at my conclusion.

"I'll tell you tonight," he promised. "But, right now, we need to get up, get changed -" I looked down to see I was still dressed in the clothes from last night. "And get some food in you."

I sighed and turned away from him teasingly.

"Well," I drawled. "If you _want_ to push me into spending more time with Paul."

Jesse caught my waist as I went to stand up, and pulled me back down to the couch.

"You know that's not it," he told me. "_Nombre de Dios_, I'd give anything for you to stop working there, so you'd have nothing to do with him whatsoever anymore."

He ended almost hopefully.

"Sorry," I told him. "I love my job, way too much."

He sighed.

"Yeah," he let me go. "I thought you'd say that. Just watch yourself around him, yeah?"

I raised my eyebrow.

"Okay," he relented. "Watch him. Don't let him be alone with you, if you can help it."

"Deal."

I kissed him quickly before going over to my own apartment - yeah, this living opposite thing was definitely a good thing - and getting changed into more work-related clothes.

As I left my apartment, Jesse was waiting for me. He took my hand and entwined our fingers as we walked down the stairwell. He raised our joined hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles, before turning the hands over and checking his watch.

"Ah," he groaned. "We don't have time for a proper breakfast the way I'd liked. Someone procrastinated too long this morning."

He raised his scarred eyebrow at me.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed. "Somebody distracted me."

Jesse smirked, not even looking the little bit sheepish.

"We'll just order something to go," he compromised. "And eat it on the way to the Gallery. Can't have my girlfriend going to work hungry."

I smiled. His girlfriend. I liked that.

"And how are you going to spend your day?" I asked as he paid for our bagels.

Jesse shrugged, taking a bite of his cream cheese-filled bagel.

"I'm not sure," he spoke with his mouth full, yet still managing not to look stupid, or gross, as he did so. "Probably just work on a few paintings."

We were getting closer to the Gallery and simultaneously began slowing our steps, not wanting to part from each other.

"So," I asked. "You paint for fun, not for profit?"

"Susannah," Jesse said. "You must have read my file, or profile, or something by now. You should know that I come from a wealthy family."

I just stared at him.

"Yes," he sighed. "I paint for fun, not for profit."

I smiled.

"Sorry," I told him. "But I haven't had a chance to talk to you about your art before. What with you not telling me about it."

"And then your break idea when I did," Jesse added, causing colour to rush to my cheeks.

"Yeah," I agreed. "And that."

I stopped walking as I realised what he'd said.

"So, wait a second," Jesse looked at me tiredly. We were practically on the doorstep to the Gallery. "When you took us to that restaurant a few weeks back? It wasn't a favour from a friend? You actually paid for it all?"

Jesse smiled.

"Actually," he admitted. "It was a bit of both. Yes, I paid for it, but it was a favour from a friend that got us in on such short notice."

"And you didn't tell me because…?" I walked closer to him.

"Well, because you didn't know how much money I had," he said. "And, I know you Susannah Simon, you wouldn't have let me pay for you."

"Darn right I wouldn't have," I replied. "Which is why I am going to take you out next."

"Really?" He wrapped his arms around my waist.

"Uh-huh," I stood on my tip-toes in order to raise my mouth level to his ear. "But, I'll tell you more later."

I stepped away from him and walked into the Gallery.

"Wait a minute!" Jesse followed me. I smiled, knowing I'd given him a way to show Paul - who was standing by the main desk, looking at us angrily - that we were back together. "Don't I get a goodbye kiss?"

I turned around and winked at him, standing there expectantly. He had the biggest smile on his face as he walked up to me and kissed me possessively in front of everybody in the front gallery at the time.

"Bye," I breathed out when he pulled away.

"Have a nice day."

And then he walked out of the door.

---

"You're late," Paul accused tersely as he followed me into my office.

I rolled my eyes as I glanced to the clock that hung above my desk.

"By, like, five minutes." I told him, gesturing to the time.

"It's still late," He persisted. "And I notice that you're back with de Silva. He's a bad influence."

"Please," I turned to face him. "Me being late was my own fault. I wouldn't get out of bed this morning."

Well, off the couch. And that was very much Jesse's fault. But Paul didn't have to know that.

"I met up with Jesse afterwards," I continued. "For breakfast."

"Even so," Paul sat himself down in my chair as his feet came up to cross on my desk. "I don't think you should be with him. He lied to you, remember?"

"Yeah," I pushed past him to get to my desk drawer. "I do."

Paul sighed.

"So, seeing as you are back with him," He looked at me to see if I would disagree. When I remained silent he carried on. "I guess, you wont be interested in this ticket to Paris?"

My ears picked up. Paris? I'd never been to Paris. Paris was an art lover's dream. It was so cultural and it was home to many landmarks. And the Louvre!

Nevertheless, I couldn't show Paul how much I wanted to go. I could only assume that the fact there was only one ticket meant that he had the other one. I'd already spent way too much alone time with this guy then I'd have liked to.

"Take Kelly," I suggested.

I didn't have to look at Paul to know he was angry. The slam of his heavy foot against the floor that sent the windows vibrating told me that.

"Well then," he fumed. "Seeing as you don't want to go to Paris with me," Ha! I knew it. "Your attendance at the Gallery's next opening is mandatory."

My mouth fell open. Shoot, I'd forgotten about that. Whilst the gallery remained open with various pieces of art that the gallery itself had bought, or had had donated by the artist, the main exhibition hall had been empty since Jesse's paintings went down.

Saturday night was opening night for the next artist we had lined up. The guy thought he was the next Pablo Picasso, but really, his 'abstract' work just looked messy.

"You can't fire me if I don't go," I insisted.

"Try me," Paul sneered.

We stared at each other, waiting to see who would back down first.

"Fine," I finally relented. "I'll go. And I'll bring Jesse, too."

"What?" Paul spluttered. "No! You … you can't. It's a work thing. You can't bring your _boyfriend_ to a work function."

The way he said the word boyfriend showed that he thought of Jesse as anything but my boyfriend. He obviously hadn't expected me to bring a date.

"You can when he's an artist." I countered to Paul who's mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water.

"It's settled," I told him after I had waited long enough for him to retaliate and he didn't. "Now, kindly leave my office please. I have some work I need to do."

Still shocked into silence, Paul mutely left my office and I sat down in my swivel chair.

Ha, that'll teach you Paul Slater.


	13. Chapter 13

**A.N - I tried to end this chapter on a light note. It was kind of hard to write. I felt so bad for Jesse. Here it is, finally, the reason Jesse hates Paul.**

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**Chapter 13**

_"Men are not our protectors... If you were, who would there be to protect us from?"_

_- Dr. Mary Edwards Walker ( American feminist 1832 - 1919 )_

Jesse came to walk me home from work that afternoon as well. It seemed like he was taking every opportunity he could to rub it in Paul's face that he hadn't managed to split us up after all.

He was waiting in the lobby for me when I finished for the day, leaning against the receptionist's desk. Kelly was overdoing herself in an effort to get Jesse to notice her. He only had eyes for me though, and I couldn't help but feel smug. Kelly had gotten all the guys in high school, it was my turn now.

"Hey, querida," Jesse greeted me with a kiss. "Good day at work?"

I nodded before lowering my voice so only he could hear.

"You are having way too much fun rubbing this in Paul's face."

Jesse smiled and nodded, making me laugh.

"Bye Paul!" I called politely. Well, the guy was my boss. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Jesse added. "Bye Slater."

I waited until we'd gotten outside before I slapped Jesse lightly on his shoulder.

"That was mean!" I scolded teasingly.

Jesse shrugged.

"Just making sure he remembers that I'm your boyfriend."

I linked our hands together.

"Alright," I sighed. "But you promised to tell me the history between you guys tonight, so start talking."

Jesse nodded tiredly, not too happy about keeping his promise - or that I remembered it, either one - and started leading us in another direction than our apartment block. I had assumed that the talk would take place at his place. Obviously not.

It wasn't long before I recognised the neighbourhood we were in as that where the coffee shop we went to the first day we met was.

Sure enough, Jesse directed me inside the shop and sat me down in a booth. He kissed me quickly before going up to the counter to order our drinks. Okay, I know I said that I'd take him out the next time we go out, but, it was just coffee. Besides, I plan on taking him to the gallery opening anyway.

I passed the time by drumming my fingers on the table at random intervals. I stopped only when Jesse returned with my mocha and his coffee.

"So," I said, taking a sip of my drink. "Why do you hate Paul?"

Jesse looked at me with his scarred eyebrow raised.

"You mean aside from the obvious reason?" He asked.

I nodded and rolled my eyes. Paul non-kissing me - because, as far as I'm concerned, nothing happened - didn't count as a reason to hate him. It went way deeper than that.

"Well," Jesse took a deep breath as I settled down more comfortably. It looked like it was going to be a long story, and rather painful for Jesse. I almost wanted to tell him that it didn't matter, and that he didn't have to tell me. But I didn't. I wanted to know. "I first met Paul in college. Remember, I said we went together?"

At my nod, he continued.

"Yeah, well, Paul and I were seniors," he explained, "when my oldest sister, Marta, decided to go to NYU as well."

I interrupted him.

"Wait, you went to College here?"

"Yes," he spoke slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," I paused and bit my bottom lip. "You lived in New Mexico, and from what Paul has told me, he was originally from Seattle. It's just a bit coincidental that you all went to same college. Completely out of the way from both of you, I might add."

Jesse smiled at me.

"NYU is a good school," he told me.

"I know," I replied. "I went there too!"

"And did you meet people from various places of America?"

I paused.

"Okay you win."

"Thank you," he took a sip of his coffee. "Now, can I continue with my story?"

"Go ahead," I mumbled.

"So," he picked up from where I'd stopped him. "Marta came to college and Paul, well, liked her, I suppose."

So far, I wasn't seeing where the hatred came in.

"But, so did many other people," he continued. "Marta is quite good-looking apparently."

Of course she is. All of his sisters were lucky enough to come from the de Silva gene pool. And look how well their older brother turned out …

"Marta could have had her pick of any of the guys that liked her," Jesse looked down into his coffee cup. "She chose Paul. I think that her choice was partly due to the fact that Paul and I were friends, and she'd known that I'd approve.

"At that time, Paul had no plans to become owner of the Slater Gallery. That was his father's business, and Paul wanted nothing to do with it."

Jesse looked up and locked his eyes with mine.

"Paul's family were quite rich, you know." He told me sombrely. "Not as rich as my own, but wealthy enough. Paul had never had a job, he just lived off of his parent's. He'd lived his life this way up until college. Until his parents cut him off."

Jesse laughed wryly.

"Quite conveniently," he stated. "They cut him off just as my sister started college. Are you beginning to see why I hate him?"

My face, I'm sure, was blank. None of this was making any sense to me. So Paul was reckless, and he'd messed around with Jesse's sister, but, to me, Jesse was just acting like a protective big brother. I'm sure Jake - my step-brother - would do the same thing for me.

I shook my head slowly.

"He saw my sister," Jesse said. "And saw a way to get money."

Oh.

Now I got it.

"So," Jesse continued. "They went out on dates - Marta paying for them mostly, Paul still hadn't thought himself low enough to get a job. We graduated, Paul and I, and he carried on seeing my sister. They had an apartment together, for which, I can only assume, Marta paid all the bills. Paul Slater mooched off of my sister for years."

I stood up and moved over to his side of the booth, offering him my silent comfort. Curse me and my need to know everything. This was clearly very painful for Jesse. Hell, it was painful for me to hear. I was ready to kill Paul Slater myself.

"It gets worse," Jesse told me quietly.

"Worse?" I asked incredulously. "How?"

"Paul proposed to her," Jesse informed me. "Marta accepted. They were going to get married."

That's how it could get worse. Since they're not happily married now, I can only imagine that things got really bad somewhere down the line.

"I was blissfully unaware of what was going on," Jesse dropped his gaze to our entwined hands, guiltily. "I was back in New Mexico, nursing my own heartbreak over my own fiancée and best friend, I know CeeCee told you about them."

I nodded.

"I moved back to New York shortly after all of this," he carried on, his gaze never leaving our hands. "I saw Marta and Paul, and I saw a happy couple. And they were, happy, I mean. They appeared to be anyway.

"But then Paul's parents died. A car accident, I think. While Marta wanted to be there for her fiancé and offer him support and help, Paul just pushed her further and further away, until, finally, he broke up with her."

I sucked in a breath. I had never hated someone as much as I did Paul Slater in that moment. Ever.

Jesse's voice was quieter then ever now.

"His parent's hadn't written him out of their will." Oh no. I could see where this was going. "They died, he became rich. Paul took over the family business, and has lived handsomely ever since."

Jesse's gaze came up to lock with mine again and he smiled sadly when he saw the tears in my own.

"Three years," he stressed. "for three years, Paul was using my sister for her money. Then tossed her aside the second that he got his hands on his own source of income. That is why I hate him so much, querida. He hurt my sister badly.

"It's also the reason I hate for you two to be alone together. I get scared that he'll seduce you away from me - as he managed to seduce my sister - and then callously throw you aside once he's had his fun. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'm sorry, Jesse," I told him in the silence that followed. Probably very cliché, but what could you say after that?

I leaned over and kissed him softly, for no other reason than that of comfort.

He was smiling when we pulled apart. That was positive, at least.

"I seem to remember you promising me a date," he reminded me, reverting back to his teasing ways.

"Oh, yes," I nodded. "And I have just the thing. You'll love it, especially since it's a whole evening where you get to rub this in Paul's face some more."

Jesse grinned.

"I like the sound of this."

He wrapped his arms around me as we finished our second lot of drinks and I told him about the event Saturday night.

It seemed that I was in need of a shopping trip if I even hoped of looking good enough for Jesse.

It was a formal affair, which could mean only one thing :

Jesse would be wearing a tux.


	14. Chapter 14

**A.N - I was thinking of writing a Mediator story based on Queen of Babble, by Meg Cabot - only not exactly, because otherwise you'd all know what was going to happen - what do you think?**

**Enjoy the chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 13.**

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**Chapter 14**

_"Jealousy, yes, jealousy will drive you mad."_

_- Jackek Koman as the Narcoleptic Argentinean in Moulin Rouge! ( Polish Actor 1956 - )_

Saturday came a bit quicker than I would have liked - I would've preferred it if I could have had an extra, oh, I don't know, week or two to go shopping. Nevertheless. my rabid search for the perfect dress all through Saturday proved fruitful come seven o'clock Saturday evening when Jesse knocked on my door.

My hair was elegantly curled and pinned to the top of my head gracefully, done by a hairdresser, of course. There's no way I would have attemtped that type of hairstyle on my own. The dress I'd chosen looked amazing, if I could say so myself. It was a deep shade of shimmering blue that was strapless and fell just below my knee. It went well with Jesse's crisp white shirt, that was accompanied by his form fitting black jacket and pants.

"Hey you," I greeted Jesse after kissing him quickly.

"Susannah," he stuttered. "Querida, you look amazing. No, more then that. You look …"

I smiled and left my apartment, locking the door behind me. I'd left my boyfriend speechless.

"Thank you," I replied demurely, covering up the pride I had for myself. Hey, it's something I'd never done before!

Jesse returned my smile with a dazzling one of his own.

"No problem, querida," his smile turned into a smirk. "Paul is going to be so jealous of me tonight."

I rolled my eyes.

"I knew that was the real reason you were coming tonight." I teased. "You don't like me after all, you go out with me to get closer to Paul."

Jesse looked over at me.

"Never think that, querida," he told me. "It's you I like."

"I know." I was stunned by his serious tone. "I was just joking."

He nodded and opened the apartment block's main door for me, courteously gesturing towards the awaiting limo.

"For you, my lady," he bowed mockingly.

My mouth dropped open.

"Jesse!" I exclaimed. "You didn't have to do this. The Gallery is just down the road!"

Jesse shrugged.

"Yes, I did," he replied matter-of-factly. "We can't have you dirtying up that dress of yours by walking there."

I lifted up the hem.

"Oh please," I told him. "It comes no where near the floor."

Though the heels I was wearing would've made it difficult enough, without the added worry of tripping over my dress.

"Susannah," he was suppressing laughter, "just get in the limo."

Grumbling under my breath, I climbed into the back of the limo, the driver holding open the door for me. Jesse followed soon after.

"Straight to the Slater Gallery, Mr de Silva?" The driver's eager voice cut through my daze at having been inside of a limo for the first time ever.

His question was answered with a nod from Jesse, who kept his eyes on me.

Embarrassed at having been caught gawking at a _car_, of all things, I turned to Jesse with a blush on my cheeks.

"Sorry," I muttered.

He laughed and kissed my nose.

"Don't be sorry," he stated wrapping his arms around my shoulders. "I like seeing you like this. Discovering something new."

I smiled and looked out of the window nearest Jesse from my place in his arms.

The short journey passed in silence.

I was scared, apprehensive. This would be my first big event since becoming art director for the gallery. I had been planning this for the past week, making sure that it would run smoothly. I had planned everything from the decorations to the food. This was, essentially, the make or break point of my career.

If this went badly, Paul could fire me for someone more efficient.

"Querida," Jesse kissed my temple. "We're here. You ready?"

I nodded.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

He climbed out of the car first.

"You'll be fine."

He took my hand and led me into the gallery.

Despite having supervised the putting-up of everything in the lobby, it still took my breath away to see the room so ornamental. Lights were strewn over the receptionist desk where Kelly stood flirting with Paul, as well as over an archway that stood before the exhibition hall where Jesse's paintings had once been.

The room was humming with excitement.

Everybody present were dressed formally - women in evening gowns, men in tuxedos. It was the most elegant event I'd ever been to. Including Senior prom.

"Good job, querida," Jesse whistled, impressed. "My opening was nothing like this."

I laughed and directed him towards Paul.

"Come on," I pulled the reluctant Jesse. "I have to say hi, at least. He's my boss."

Jesse was mumbling in Spanish beneath his breath. Though I did recognise the word _novia_ which I knew meant girlfriend. He was probably muttering about making sure Paul knew I was with Jesse. If Paul didn't know by now then I think something might be wrong with his memory - we'd told him enough times, showed him even more.

"Good evening, Paul," I greeted him, pulling Jesse to a standstill.

"Hey, Suze," Paul replied leaning to kiss me on the cheek - which was how he greeted everybody at these events. He was stopped by a small growl from Jesse. "Hector," he added with a curt nod.

"Slater."

Both men spoke to each other coldly.

"Your first opening is going well," Paul congratulated me with a hint of something glinting in his eyes.

I faltered and took a step backwards into Jesse's arms. I didn't like that look in his eye. Not even a little bit.

"Yes, well," Jesse spat at Paul, sensing my discomfort. "Pleasure to see you," He spoke through gritted teeth. "We'll just leave you now."

Paul nodded politely though I could see that he was seething with hatred at Jesse.

"Are you okay, querida?" Jesse muttered to me as we walked away quickly.

I nodded silently.

"He was just scaring me a little," I admitted.

"I know," Jesse agreed. "I've never seen his eyes so cold before."

We were making our way towards the refreshment table, which was laden with Champagne and buffet foods. It seemed that most of the people here were regulars, and a lot of them stopped Jesse to talk about his work. I guess I wasn't Hector de Silva's only fan - just his biggest.

"Look, it's okay," I told him. "I'll go and get us some drinks. You stay and talk, okay?"

"Are you sure, querida?" He asked looking warily around at the people surrounding him with eager questions.

I nodded and kissed him swiftly.

"I'll be back soon with a lot of weak alcohol to help you through this." I promised.

Jesse laughed.

"Well," he said. "How can I not let you go?"

"Exactly!"

"Just be careful." We both knew he was talking about Paul.

"I will." I promised again before leaving him to his fans aplenty.

Paul was nowhere near the refreshment table when I approached it, a fact for which I was thankful. I really didn't want to be alone with Paul tonight.

I picked up two champagne flutes and was about to return to Jesse when I felt a heavy hand rest on my arm.

I froze.

"I didn't have a chance to tell you how pretty you look tonight," Paul Slater's voice sounded from too close to my ear. "And that Jesse's a fool for leaving you alone like this."

I snatched my arm away from him.

"For your information," I snapped. "I don't need a bodyguard."

"Oh, I don't know," Paul laughed icily.

I glared at him.

"And what is that suppose to mean?"

Paul tightened his grip on both of my hands now. I was unable to escape, despite how much I tried.

"Just that," he told me whilst pushing a - I can only assume - chloroform soaked cloth to my nose and mouth. "A bodyguard would be pretty useful to you right about now."

I tried to scream for help but all that came out was muffled by the cloth. I could feel myself growing more tired and I tried desperately to fight it.

"Now, now," Paul scolded. "None of that."

It was no use. Everything around me grew fuzzy as I gave in to the sleep that was dragging me away from reality.

"Sweet dreams."

Paul's pleased voice was the last thing I heard before everything went black.


	15. Chapter 15

**A.N - Ooofff. Mighty chapter of 2000 words. Wow. And I'd like to take the time to thank everybody who reviewed last chapter. Twenty-three reviews! That was just like woah! Thank you all so, so much.**

**To Emily, because she's amazing. End of.**

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**Chapter 15**

_"To die would be an awfully big adventure."_

_- Jeremy Sumpter as Peter Pan in Peter Pan (2003) ( American Actor 1989 - )_

The haze Paul had drugged me in to was slowly lifting, leaving my head pounding painfully. I felt as if I was hung over.

"Ah," Paul's voice startled me and cause my head to jerk upwards to try and find him. "You're awake. I didn't intend for you to be out this long."

I hated this man. So, so much.

"And how long have I been out?" I asked him.

"An hour," he shrugged. "Give or take a few minutes."

"An hour?!" I groaned. Jesse would be worried sick. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Socialising, of course," he stated offended that I'd even asked. "It's my gallery, after all."

"So no one has noticed the disappearance of the art director who arranged all of this?" I asked incredulously. "Come on Paul. Someone had to have seen you attacking me. What about Jesse?"

Paul's eyes glinted with the same look as earlier, when I first arrived.

"Yes," he mused. "I have to thank him for causing such a good … distraction for me. Everyone who was not drunk at the time of your 'disappearance' was asking your boyfriend questions about his art."

"He has to have noticed I'm not with him anymore." I was desperately searching for anything that might get him to release me. "It _has _been an hour."

I didn't even understand why he was doing this. The only money I had to my name was the earnings he gave me. If he wanted that so badly, why not just fire me?

"Of course he's noticed by now." Paul smirked. "He can't do anything about it though. I saw to that. Did you know this event was invitation only?"

He paused before shaking his head and laughing.

"Of course you did," he said coolly circling the room that was too dark for me to recognise. It must have been one of the gallery offices, as they weren't being used for tonight's party. "It was such a shame, Hector de Silva had to be escorted from the premises. It seems that his date had the invitation, and she was nowhere to be seen."

I glared at Paul. Scratch hate, I despised this man.

Paul remained indifferent to my evil looks towards him and instead lazily looked at the expensive watch hanging from his wrist.

"Ah, half past eight," he announced. "This whole thing will be over in fifteen minutes. The gallery empty. Save you and I, of course."

My head had finally cleared enough for me to realise I hadn't attempted to move since waking up. It was useless. Paul had taken the liberty of tying me to a chair that lined the wall of his office, ready for visitors. I could feel the sting of a rope that was tied too tightly around my wrist.

"Paul Slater," I hissed at him. "Let. Me. Go."

Each word I punctuated with a stamp to the floor, despite the fact that my feet were tied to the chair. I was determined to get out of this some how.

"Nice try, _querida_." My glare intensified. Only Jesse got to call me that! Even if I didn't know what it meant exactly, I knew that Paul didn't have the right to say it. "The music in the lobby is way too loud for anybody to hear your pitiful attempts at overpowering me."

"What's this about Paul?" I asked tiredly, finally comprehending that I was in a bad situation, with no way out. "I don't have any money."

Paul threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. Surely someone had to have heard that?

"I see Jesse told you the reason for our animosity towards each other," his laughter died a little. "You think this is about money? I don't need any more money. I have enough."

He leaned towards me forcing me to cringe back into the wall.

"No," he breathed angrily. "This is about you. It's you I want Suze, not money."

He ended his speech with a rough kiss. A kiss I had to take, considering I was tied to a chair with my hands behind my back. There was no way I was getting out of this.

"Ah," he exclaimed rather surprised after another glance at his watch. "Five minutes to go. I better go do the good host thing, and thank everybody for coming."

He left me then. Alone and tied up in the dark room.

Think Suze, think. I had five minutes to try and get out of this rather hopeless situation.

I darted my gaze around the room trying to find something that would help to untie my bonds. I didn't know what Paul was planning on doing to me, but I didn't plan on staying around long enough to find out.

I forced myself to move the chair towards the desk that sat in the middle of the large room. There had to be something there I could use. I was also determined to make as much noise as possible as I dragged the chair along the floor awkwardly. Hopefully someone would hear me, then come to my rescue.

By the time I'd reached the desk - which took longer than I would have liked - I was out of breath and cursing the fact that I didn't own a watch. Now I wasn't sure how long I had until Paul came back.

My hands were bound tightly together, but not to the chair, giving them free reign behind my back. If the same went for my legs then this whole rescue-myself mission would have been so much easier.

As quickly as I could, I pulled open drawers and began feeling for something to cut the ropes with. I almost shouted in glee when my fingers wrapped around something cold, metallic and, most importantly, sharp.

I hurriedly began cutting the ropes, which was a hard thing to do, considering I can't see behind my back, and my hands were tied together.

I could hear footsteps getting closer to the room I was in and my heart started beating obnoxiously loud in my chest. If Paul saw me over here, attempting to free myself, I don't think he'd be very forgiving.

My hands were free by the time the door handle started to move downwards.

I chucked the item - which I now identified as a letter opener - under the desk, hopefully out of sight.

The door swung open and I held my breath, bracing myself for Paul's attack on me to start anew.

"Susannah?" A welcome voice called my name, worriedly. "Querida, are you in here?"

"Thank god!" I called letting out my held breath. "Jesse, I'm here."

The lights suddenly turning on in the room burned my eyes.

"Querida," Jesse ran towards me and smothered kisses all over my face. As much as I enjoyed it, now was kind of not the time.

"Letter opener," I gasped out, pulling away from Jesse's very wanted kisses. "Under the desk. Cut the ropes on my feet."

As Jesse nodded and set about cutting the ropes, I brought my hands slowly in front of my face, wincing as I saw the purple bruises circling my wrists.

"How did you get back in?" I asked in a whisper, ever aware of the threat Paul posed if he came back any time soon.

"I slipped in whilst everybody was leaving." He admitted. "They all thought I had forgotten my jacket, or something."

It was the first time I'd noticed that Jesse wasn't wearing his jacket, and that his shirt was open halfway, exposing his chest to my eyes, with his sleeves rolled up to above his elbow.

Eventually I felt the pressure against my ankles ease as the last of the ropes were cut.

I jumped to my feet, ignoring the pain that was pretty much everywhere at my action. It was worth it to be in Jesse's embrace.

"I was so scared," I admitted into Jesse's chest. "He said he wants me, Jesse. Not money, me. Why me?"

"Shhh," he soothed. "It's okay querida. We'll get you out of here and you never have to come back."

I nodded and pulled apart from him, ready to leave this place for good. My plans were shattered when I heard the slam of a door nearby and the chilling sound of it being locked afterwards.

"Good plan," Paul admitted. "But it's not going to happen."

Jesse and I turned together to face the man that had caused us so much trouble. Paul's gaze was fixed on me greedily. It was all I could do to hold his glare instead of cringing away in fear. I was grateful when Jesse pushed me protectively behind him.

"You shouldn't have come back," Paul warned. "If you didn't come back, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

Paul pulled out something that glinted in the light almost as much as Paul's eyes did at the thought of harming Jesse. A knife.

Jesse hid me completely from Paul's view when he caught sight of the weapon, making Paul laugh.

"You don't have to worry de Silva," Paul said evilly. "I'm not going to hurt Suze. Just you."

"I wouldn't if I were you." I felt Jesse move imperceptibly, leaning more on his front foot in a fighting stance.

Oh no, Jesse, I warned silently. Don't do anything heroic. Not when the other guy has a knife!

"And why is that, Jesse?" Paul spat out Jesse's nickname.

"What did you think I was doing in the hour I wasn't here?" Jesse asked. "I knew you had Susannah. Where did you think I was going to go? Home?!"

Paul froze as Jesse's words sunk in.

"No," Jesse continued. "I went to the police. They're waiting outside."

Paul glanced nervously from the window to the door, looking for the flash of the police car sirens, and listening for the sound of their footsteps.

Jesse lunged forward whilst Paul's guard was down, meaning to knock the knife out of his hands.

"Jesse!" I shouted stupidly. "No!"

Having been alerted by me, Paul stepped easily away from Jesse's attack and laughed cruelly.

"Nice try de Silva."

Contrary to popular belief, time did not slow down when Paul Slater raised the knife to attack my boyfriend. Rather, it sped up.

Paul swung the knife downwards, from his shoulder height, aiming for Jesse's chest - something I was definitely not going to let happen.

I ran towards the two men and pushed Jesse sideways, away from Paul and the impending attack.

The only problem with my plan was that Paul didn't have as good a reflex as I'd hoped and the knife carried on moving down towards me.

I fell to the floor in pain, landing heavily on my right arm. I curled up and placed a hand over the stab wound in my stomach. The pain in my arm was second only to that in my stomach.

"Suze!"

"Querida!"

The shouts of the two other people in the room sounded far away. My vision started to blur as the shooting pain in my stomach overcame all of my other senses.

I did, however, feel the gentle movement of my head from the hard floor into a more comfortable position on Jesse's lap. I knew it was Jesse. Paul was frozen in shock, knife dropped on to the floor. I could see his shoes.

"It's okay, querida," Jesse's hands ran through my hair as he murmured soft words to me. "You're going to be okay." He paused before continuing in a quieter tone. "You have to be."

Jesse's shout of : "Don't just stand there, call an ambulance!", barely registered in my mind because, in the next second, Jesse was talking to me again.

"I love you querida," he said quietly. "Susannah, I love you."

I smiled up at him weakly.

"I ... love you ... too."

I could barely recognise my own voice. It was hoarse, weak and barely audible. But Jesse heard me. He heard me and tears welled up in his eyes.

"You're going to be okay." He repeated more strongly.

I felt the comfort of his hands running through my hair, just before a particularly sharp stab of pain jolted through me and I fell unconscious for the second time that night, my head in Jesse's lap and blood coating my fingers.


	16. Chapter 16

**A.N - Hey guys, sorry for the delay in updating. I'm kind of hesitant about finishing this story because I have nothing planned for immediately afterwards and therefore I want to keep this going as long as possible.**

**Thanks for all your reviews for last chapter. And bear with me with this one. I got all of the medical explanations from my mum, who is a nurse. But I think she may have been messing me around with some stuff, or she just got annoyed at all of my questions. Either way, I hope you like it.**

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**Chapter 16**

"_Thank God This Moments Not The Last."_

_- Adam Pascal as Roger in RENT ( American Actor, Singer and Broadway Performer 1970 - )_

_Beep …Beep …Beep …_

It took me a while, once I'd first opened my eyes, to place myself. The beeping noise continued blaring in the background and something warm was holding my hand loosely.

A pain in my stomach seared as I tried to sit up to take a closer look at my surroundings and I fell back down onto the bed painfully, rousing the person sleeping in an uncomfortable chair next to my bed.

I struggled to breathe through the oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth and raised my hand to claw it off, only for it to be stopped by the same hand that had been clutching mine a second ago.

Without a word, he took off the offending item much slower and more carefully than I would have if I'd been allowed to do it myself.

"How are you feeling, querida?" A familiar voice asked me quietly.

"Jesse?" I asked, squinting my eyes to try and focus my gaze on the figure staring at me intently.

"Yes, querida," he smiled and took my hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "I'm here and I've called for the doctor, he should be here shortly. I'm so glad you're alright."

He spoke the last sentence in a tone that was full of relief.

"I'm fine," I told him. "My stomach kind of hurts but I'm here. In one piece."

Jesse closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

"You don't know," he began, "how hard it's been for me these past few days -"

"Hang on a minute," I interrupted him from my position on the hospital bed - there was no denying that that's where I was now - not wanting to move and irritate my stab wound. "A few _days_?" I repeated.

He nodded gravely.

"Yes," he sighed. "You've been lying there, unconscious, for three days. It has been so hard for me to see you like that - pale, unmoving with various medical tools surrounding you. Seeing you like that … and knowing that it's my fault you are there."

"Woah," I stopped him. "It's not your fault, Jesse."

"Susannah," he shot me a look which told me not to question him. Was I going to listen? Not a chance. "If I hadn't come back for you, you wouldn't be there right now."

"You're right," I saw the hurt look fill his eyes at my agreement. "If you handn't come back for me, god knows where I'd be by now."

"_Nombre de Dios_," Jesse swore under his breath. "Susannah, listen to me -"

"Jesse," I tried to sit up and look him in the eye, but he pushed me gently back down onto the bed. "This is not your fault. It's Paul's."

He smiled sadly, deciding not to aggravate me further but still blaming himself. He was so lucky that the doctor chose to walk in at that moment.

"Ah, Miss Simon," he announced cheerfully on seeing me awake. "I'm just going to check on your vitals, bear with me a second."

The doctor proceeded to fiddle with the various machines that monitored my breathing and my heart rate, before he checked over my chart.

Jesse and I remained looking at each other silently, until I broke my gaze when the doctor probed my stomach gently. I hissed in a breath and Jesse looked at me concernedly while the doctor smiled apologetically.

"Ah, sorry," he said. "I just needed to see if there was any swelling around your wound and such. It's still sore, but looks to be healing nicely. Give it another week, and you're free to go home, Miss Simon."

"A week?" I asked incredulously. "Isn't there anyway I could leave sooner? I spent too much of my teenage years in the hospital, I don't really like them much."

My admission caused the Doctor to laugh.

"We'll see," he offered before continuing in a teasing tone. "Just be thankful I didn't keep it at the original ten days."

He left the room laughing and telling me that a nurse would be by within an hour to change my IV. I winced at the thought. I hate needles.

Jesse was by my side as soon as the door swung shut.

"I missed you querida," he whispered whilst placing kisses all over my face. "I knew you'd be okay. I knew it. I love you, Susannah."

He ended with a proper kiss, on the lips as opposed to my cheeks, forehead and nose - where he'd been placing his kisses before.

"I love you too," I breathed when we pulled apart.

Jesse smiled and sat down in the same chair as before. I frowned when I saw it.

"That looks nasty to sit on," I stated. "Are you sure you don't want to sit up here with me?"

I proved my sincerity by moving along the bed to make room for him.

"Oh, no you don't." Jesse stopped me. "You need to just stay there and heal."

His hand came to wrap around my own once again, and he raised it to his lips, kissing it gently.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he admitted. "I was ready to kill Paul. I lifted my head just in time to see the knife …"

He trailed off with a shudder.

"Don't you dare do something like that again, you hear me Susannah?" I dropped my gaze guiltily. "I'd much rather it had been me that was hurt, instead of you."

"You would have been dead," I whispered quietly. "I saw where that knife was going Jesse. Straight into your chest. You would have died. And, lets face it, the only reason Paul stopped to help like he did was because it was me that was hurt. If he had succeeded in hurting you, he would've just turned around and moved straight onto me."

Jesse's eyes were shut.

"He didn't help, querida," he told me. "He just stood there looking at you. I called at him - shouted at him - to call an ambulance, and he ignored me. He was smirking, Susannah. He was … _happy_ that he'd hurt you, and, in affect, hurt me."

I was silent.

Damn that Paul Slater.

"So, after you fell unconscious on me," Jesse carried on. "I called an ambulance. I had to leave you in order to reach the phone on the desk. Paul had..." he trailed off as his eyes smouldered at the memory. "Paul had disconnected it. I had to run around the gallery trying to find a phone line that worked - my cellphone was in my jacket pocket. By the time I returned from my frantic search, Paul had left the room you were in.

"He just ran away, and left you there." Jesse looked ready to kill him.

"Where is he now?" I ventured to ask.

"In jail, without bail, awaiting trial," Jesse looked smug. "I wasn't lying when I said the police were outside. The police were, but not an ambulance. I swear, querida, if I ever see him again, he's dead. What he's done to you is much, much worse than what he did to Marta."

"What's he in for?" I asked after a pause. I wasn't sure how to respond to his passionate wish to see Paul Slater dead.

"Well, from my statement - seeing as Paul himself is remaining silent," Jesse frowned. "He's in for kidnapping, attempted murder on myself and actual bodily harm for you. It would have been homicide, if you'd …"

I hushed him, knowing the topic was painful.

"The police will be by to talk to you," Jesse informed me. "I don't know when. Once they've heard that you're awake though, they'll want your version of events."

I nodded acceptingly. I was willing to do anything if it involved putting Paul Slater behind bars. Even if I had to stand trial in court.

I felt Jesse's gaze boring into me and looked up to lock our gazes.

"What?" I asked hesitantly. I hadn't looked at a mirror since before the gallery opening three days ago. Did I really look that bad? I ran my fingers through my hair.

Jesse laughed.

"Nothing," he assured me. "It's not the way you look - you're beautiful, all the time."

I pouted. He's biased, it didn't count. Despite how much I liked being called beautiful.

He paused for a minute, staring at me intently, before carrying on.

"I love you," he repeated. "And I'm so, so glad - you don't know how much - that you're alright."

"I love you too," I told him. "And, hey! You said I would be. Don't doubt yourself."

He smiled.

"I wont." He promised.

He got up to kiss me once again, still not letting me move so much as an inch from my position on the bed. Honestly, I hadn't moved in three days! He could let me sit up, at least.

All of my anger towards him for that flew out of the window as soon as his lips touched my own. I'd missed this. My arms wrapped around his neck while he very gently rested his hands either side of my head.

We were interrupted by the nurse that the doctor had promised would show up.

If it was going to be like this for the next week, I wanted out of this place now.


	17. Chapter 17

**A.N - Kind of a fill-in chapter to tie up loose ends. There should be another chapter after this one. And maybe an epilogue after that. We're nearing the end of the story guys! Though, there is another one up on my account somewhere. Te Amo, Querida. Check it out.**

**Lol. Now that I've finished shamelessly advertising my new fic, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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**Chapter 17**

_"Every day is an opportunity to make a new happy ending." _

_- Author Unknown_

Jesse left my room whilst the nurse changed my IV. I guess he's not too good with needles either. When he returned, he came bearing food. Of the non-hospital kind.

"I phoned your parents." He said. "They'll be here soon."

"But they're in California." I spoke through a mouthful of Hershey's kisses.

"No." He corrected, his eyes twinkling. "I called them that first night. When Paul …" He paused. "Anyway, they caught the first flight they could - your mom and your step-dad - and arrived yesterday. They stopped here briefly, to see you, and have been at my place ever since."

"Your place?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Well, I could have put them up in a hotel, I suppose." Jesse admitted. "I just thought that they wouldn't want to go through the hassle of booking one. Our apartment block isn't that far from the hospital."

He stole one of my chocolate kisses and put it in his mouth quickly, laughing as he did so.

"Like I said," he continued. "They'll be here soon."

I nodded before smiling coquettishly over at him.

"You know, if you wanted one of my kisses, all you had to do was ask."

Jesse smiled.

"I don't ask," he whispered, leaning in closer. "I take."

Then he captured my lips with his own.

Okay, Jesse's kisses were way better than Hershey's.

-----

My parents came shortly after Jesse had told me they were going to. They'd obviously left the apartment as soon as they'd hung up. They came sooner then I'd expected, and, because of that, interrupted mine and Jesse's make-out session.

They didn't shout, or tut, disapprovingly. Not because I was an adult and could make my own decisions, but because they were just so glad I was awake.

"Oh, Susie!" My mom cried after me and Jesse had jumped apart guiltily. "I'm so happy that you're alright!"

She came over and hugged me pushing against my stab wound as she did so.

"Ow!" I complained. "Mom! Go easy on me."

"I'm sorry, honey," mom apologised. "I'm just so happy. Imagine how I felt when I was rang up by a stranger who claimed to be your boyfriend and then told you'd been stabbed and was in the hospital."

Put like that, I can see how she was worried. I knew I'd forgotten to tell her something. The last time I'd talk to my mom had been during mine and Jesse's short-lived break.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." I muttered quietly.

Andy came behind my mom and eased her away from me.

"You're forgiven." He smiled easily.

We talked for a bit longer - Jesse kindly stepping outside so as not to intrude - about how life in New York was.

It was only during that conversation that I realised I was out of a job, You know, considering my boss was facing life in jail.

My mom hugged me once again shortly before they left.

"I'm sorry we have to go back to California, Susie." My mom did genuinely seem upset that she was leaving. "It's just, I can't miss much work. You know how it is."

"Yeah." I smiled understandingly at her. "It's alright, I get it. It means a lot that you came out here to see me in the first place."

"Of course we would," Andy ensured me. "Though I don't know why we get worried anymore. You spent so much of high school in the hospital anyway."

I winced at the reminder and bade goodbye to my mom and step-dad. Jesse raised his eyebrow at me.

"No." I told him firmly. "You are not going to hear about my High School years."

"Please?" He leaned in close and dropped his voice into a deep tone that ringed with a Spanish lilt. Much more then it usually did. "I told you about my college ones."

I almost gave in. Almost. Thank god for the arrival of the police.

And that's a sentence I'd never thought I'd say.

Jesse remained by my side, clutching my hand tightly, all the time that the police were talking to me. It was a bit overwhelming. I'd only just woken up and I'd been presented with my parents who were eager to make up for not being here in my time of need, and now policeman that had obviously been on their shift for way longer than they would have liked.

What they did say was extremely comforting though. They took a statement from me first of all - my version of events - and then told me something about Paul. After he heard that I was awake, he confessed to everything and confirmed Jesse's statement as being true. The police said that Paul wasn't going to stand trial. He was guilty and was going to be sentenced to at least ten years.

A whoosh of breath left my lungs when they told me. I didn't realise how scared I was at the though of standing trial - and seeing Paul again - until they told me that I wouldn't have to do it.

The policemen left soon after they'd arrived, hoping that I'd get well soon.

"Thank god." Jesse whispered as soon as the door shut behind them. "That _vaquero _is going to jail. He deserves it after what he did to you."

"And Marta." I added.

Jesse just murmured an agreeing noise and leaned over to kiss me again.

"Jesse!" I called his name in one of the breaks between kisses, only to be ignored and kissed again. "Jesse!"

He pulled away and looked at me with dark brown eyes.

"I'm out of a job." I whispered.

He sat down on the bed beside me.

"I'm aware of that."

I couldn't see his face but it sounded like he was smiling.

"Well, now I have to find one again."

He clearly didn't see my crisis.

"No, you don't." He punctuated his sentence with a kiss on my nose.

"Um, Jesse," I began. "I know you're rich, and therefore don't really need a job, but I do and -"

I stopped when I heard his laughter and felt him shaking with the force of it.

"I have the perfect job for you." He told me eventually when his laughter had died down.

"Really?" I asked amused. "What?"

"Well," Jesse looked hesitant. "I've been thinking about it for a while - mainly it was just to give you a reason to get away from Paul - but now I think it will be good. For the both of us."

I gave him a pointed look.

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Patience is a virtue."

I smiled.

"So I've been told." He laughed again and I carried on. "Anyway, job?"

"Ah, yes." He looked me straight in the eyes. "How would you like to be the art director in a whole new gallery?"

I could feel my excitement building.

"Really?" He nodded. "You can get me the same job?" He nodded again. "Where?"

He smirked then, keeping the place a secret from me.

"As soon as you get out of here, querida," he smiled knowing how annoyed I would get, "and are able to work again. Then I'll tell you where."

"Jesse!"

His laughter echoed around the hospital room, blissfully ignoring the fact that I had a pout on my face that refused to go away.

"Okay." He stopped for a minute and calmed himself down. "Okay. It's in my gallery."

My mouth dropped open.

"I've been thinking of opening one." He admitted turning a brilliant smile on me. "Well? What do you say?"

Did he really need to ask?

"Of course!" I exclaimed. "That's an amazing idea!"

"So you'll come to work for me?" He checked.

"Duh."

"Good."

And he sealed our deal with a kiss.


	18. Chapter 18

**A.N - One more chapter guys. This should have been the end, but Moondancing Millie wanted another chapter between now and then. So you can either thank/blame her for this chapter. I hope you like it anyway. I'll try to post up the end soon.**

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**Chapter 18**

_"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,_

_Creeps in this petty pace from day to day."_

_- William Shakespeare ( English playwright 1564 - 1616 )_

Jesse didn't let up on his 'Susannah must stay perfectly still at all times' thing for the entire week I was in the hospital. He almost persuaded the doctor to keep me in for the extra three days as well - which I was having none of.

When I finally left the hospital, Jesse was there by my side, helping me in every way possible. We didn't talk though. Jesse was a bit angry that I'd turned down the offer of a wheelchair to get me to the hospital doors.

"I'm fine, Jesse," I told him repeatedly receiving only a smile and a curt nod in return.

There was a taxi waiting at the hospital doors. I completely ignored it, thinking it was for a patient that lived a further distance away then I did. I walked past it, barely wincing at the occasional small shoot of pain that tingled through me when I walked, only to be pulled back gently by my boyfriend and helped into the taxi.

"Jesse." I scolded angrily after he had gotten in and told the taxi where to go. "I'm not going to break. I was capable enough to walk home."

"I know." He kissed my fingertips, already softening the anger I held towards him.

Curse him and his Spanish charm.

"Just let me do this," he whispered. "Let me keep you safe."

"You do," I told him softly. "And this whole thing is _not _your fault. It's Paul's."

The same Paul who was now forced to wear those oh-so-flattering clothes that were reserved for convicts only. Five days earlier - two days after my waking up - Paul Slater was found guilty of all of his charges and, therefore, sentenced to life imprisonment. Which was a load off of my mind.

Jesse said nothing else, and looked out of the window in silence. His face was directed away from me, though I could've sworn I caught a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

That man was up to something.

We pulled up outside of our apartment block, managing to beat most of the New York traffic. I cringed at the thought of how Jesse would react to me wanting to walk up the five flights of stairs alone. He probably wouldn't be very happy.

Sure enough, when I made my way to the door that read staircase, Jesse grabbed my hand and pulled me to the elevator.

"Jesse," I complained. "I can walk, it's okay."

"No," he was firm. "We're going in the elevator."

"But Jesse! I didn't even use the elevator to get all of my stuff to the apartment when I moved in. I never use the elevator."

"And you've also never been stabbed."

Although I winced at the abruptness of his tone, I didn't object further. He had a point. Plus his tone told me not to argue back and I didn't fancy getting on Jesse de Silva's bad side.

We ended up going to his apartment again. I'm starting to wonder why I keep paying for my apartment - I barely spend any time in there.

Jesse opened the door ahead of me - it could have been his gentleman side, or it could have been the side that felt guilty for me getting hurt, either one - but then he put his hands over my eyes before opening the door.

"Um, Jesse," I started to say. "Someone would think you were kidnapping me, or something."

His chuckle sent shivers down my spine from his proximity and the vibrations jumping from his chest to my back.

"No, querida." He kissed my temple. "I'm not kidnapping you - that's not something someone should have to go through twice."

I heard the sound of the door shutting behind me and I felt Jesse lead me over to sit on his couch.

"I wasn't kidnapped," I protested to unhearing ears. "I was drugged."

I felt Jesse shrug.

"You were taken away from me," he told me as if it explained everything. Which, it probably did. Now that I think about it.

"Yeah," another voice added. "And everybody knows that nothing of Jesse's is ever stolen successfully."

A female voice cut in.

"Hey!" She scolded the first voice. "Suze is not his possession."

I knew who they were before Jesse remove his hands from my eyes, but it was nice to get the visual confirmation.

Cee Cee and Adam.

Who never actually came to visit me in the hospital.

"I know what you're thinking," Cee Cee put up a hand to stop me from talking once she saw my mouth fall open ready to shout at her. "We were in the emergency room as soon as Jesse thought to call us. The reason we didn't visit you is because we were too busy putting you're attacker behind bars."

My eyes widened.

"I guess we never discussed our jobs with you," Adam smiled sheepishly.

"Or how Adam and I met." Cee Cee interjected.

Jesse was laughing from his spot on the couch next to me, his arm curled carefully around my waist, ever conscious of the wound which was healing quickly.

"Cee Cee and I are lawyers," Adam explained as he moved to sit down on the coffee table opposite the couch, until a look from Jesse kept him awkwardly standing there. "We met at law school."

"So," I began talking slowly, processing everything. "You guys heard what happened and, what?"

"Went straight down to the police station to make sure that Paul was going to pay, is what."

Cee Cee rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's telling of events.

"After making sure you were in a stable condition," she added.

I nodded, smiling.

"Okay." I bit my lip anxiously. "So you used mine and Jesse's statements. Paul's now in jail, wahey, we can all party. That still leaves the five days after his conviction. You could have visited me then. See how I was doing."

Adam and Cee Cee looked sheepish.

"Well," Cee Cee uncharacteristically stuttered. "Sorry. That was kind of selfish of us, I suppose. Adam took me away for the week."

"Why?"

Jesse asked the question I'd been thinking. Apparently he hadn't been filled in either. But, he'd been with me non-stop over the past few days. If he knew something, I would have too.

"Well -"

Adam cut off Cee Cee's response.

"To propose," he told us, smiling happily and pulling his girlfriend to him. "She said yes."

"You're engaged?!" I blurted the words out happily.

Cee Cee nodded happily.

"Oh my god!" I jumped out of Jesse's arms ignoring his cry of 'hey!' in protest. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Well, you were hurt. And in hospital and -"

I waved her off.

"So?" I pointed to myself. "My news was bad." I pointed to her and Adam. "Yours was happy. Good cancels out the bad."

Cee Cee smiled at my logic. Or lack of.

I felt Jesse behind me again.

"Well, you're better now," he kissed the nape of my neck as he tightened his grip around my waist. "And those two are happily engaged, so everything's okay right?"

I nodded before turning back to Cee Cee.

"But you and I are going to talk wedding plans very soon."

Everyone in the room laughed as Cee Cee agreed with a nod.

The four of us lounged around Jesse's place for the rest of the night, falling asleep in awkward positions around the living room.

Now all that was left to do was to make sure Jesse made good on his promise to get me a job.


	19. Epilogue

**A.N - I guess I'm just a sucker for a happy ending. Despite how horribly clichéd. Thanks to everyone who stuck with this through to the end and reviewed every chapter. This fic has done really well, and I'm glad that you liked it so much as to receive it the way you have.**

**Thank you and I hope you like the ending.**

**Though, if you're not happy its over, there's always Te Amo, Querida. Lol. :D**

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**Epilogue**

"_Every house where love abides  
And friendship is a guest,  
Is surely home, and home sweet home  
For there the heart can rest."  
- Henry Van Dyke ( American Author, Educator and Clergyman 1852 - 1933 )_

_6 Months Later_

It was so hard for me to believe that all of this was actually happening. Jesse had started up his own gallery, buying a building and redoing practically everything to make it quaint yet modern. He had given me a job, as well as many other people, including his sister Mercedes who, at twenty-one, had decided to try out a life here in New York City after finishing college back in New Mexico.

I had spent Christmas with Jesse's family in New Mexico, considering he spent Thanksgiving with mine in Carmel.

We ran into his ex-fiancée and her new husband while we were out there. Jesse had just nodded at his ex best friend and offered no hard feelings, all the while squeezing the arm that was wrapped around my waist, and then walked past them without another word.

His ex-fiancée, Maria, wasn't happy, to say the least.

Jesse told me afterwards that she had tried to start up an affair with him - she had called him while I was out shopping with his sisters. Like that was going to happen.

And now, only a few days after our return to New York, it was New Year's Eve, and the opening of our new Gallery - De Silva & Simon. Yeah, that's the name. I'm co-owner of the best new gallery this side of New York.

One of the things I can't believe is happening.

The gallery opening was a cross between a New Year's party and a new show opening. It turns out Jesse isn't the only artist in his family. His second oldest sister - which would be Mercedes - was just as good as he was. Though I was being a bit biased when I said that I preferred Jesse's work.

"Suze!" Adam's voice called me from across the lobby, dragging Cee Cee along behind him. "Great party, man!"

Needless to say, Adam was drunk.

At a slap on his shoulder from his wife of three months, Adam corrected himself.

"Great party, girl." He rushed to change.

Adam and Cee Cee's wedding had taken place on Halloween - the two of them not really being the most conventional of couples.

I don't think they could have chosen a better time of the year, personally - even though I desperately wanted a summer wedding, when the time came. Sunlight had streamed through the church through the stained glass windows, casting colours over all of the guests. I stood at the altar as Cee Cee's maid of honour, Jesse next to Adam as his best man.

The photographs came out beautifully - the brightly coloured leaves of Autumn strewn on the floor contrasted with the bright green of the leaves that were still alive and thriving on the trees.

"Yeah, she did a great job." Jesse's voice interrupted my trip down memory lane. "Way better than that last one at Slater Gallery. Especially since no one has been kidnapped."

"Yet." I teased, turning around to face Jesse and give him a kiss. "I still can't believe all of this."

"I can." Jesse smiled down at me and checked his watch for the time. "Ten minutes to midnight."

Those nearest to us who had heard him cheered.

"Any New Year's Resolutions?" I asked Cee Cee who smirked in return.

"I'm thinking, maybe," She began, out of Adam's view. "Start a family?"

The way Adam paled instantly had us all laughing.

"What?" He asked quietly? "A … A family?"

Cee Cee kissed him.

"I'm kidding." She told him.

"Oh," Adam let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

Jesse laughed at his best friend making Adam get slightly annoyed at all the jokes being made at him.

"So what's yours then, Hector?" He asked spitefully.

Jesse smiled at the recently married couple. Something about the look in his eyes had Cee Cee holding in a squeal of excitement and Adam's eyes widening.

"What?" I turned to face Jesse again. "What is it?"

Jesse's next words were spoken directly to me.

"My New Year's Resolution," he whispered in a deep voice. "Is to get my girlfriend to marry me."

My mouth dropped open.

"What?" I demanded.

"Marry me, Susannah?"

He attracted a lot of attention when he broke away from me and got down on one knee, holding out a box with the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen sparkling inside of it.

There were gasps of admiration from the women in the crowd, everyone was watching by now.

"Querida?" Jesse asked again, his nerves starting to show on his face. "Will you?"

Realising that I'd remained perfectly still since the first time he asked, I snapped myself out of it and nodded frantically.

"Yes!" I shouted. "Of course I will."

Jesse smiled and stood up, kissing me before sliding the ring onto my left ring finger.

"Oh my God." I said again.

"I know." He teased. "I achieved my New Year's resolution before the new year actually began. I'm going to have to think of a new one."

See what I meant by I can't believe this was really happening? I was engaged to the best looking, most talented artist in the country, we owned what appears to be quite a successful gallery and, not that it mattered, Jesse was rich.

This was way better then I how I'd thought my life in New York would go.

"I told you she'd say yes!" Jesse's sister came running over to him, having seen everything from across the room. "Didn't I?"

"Yes," Jesse laughed, linking our fingers together. "You did, Mercedes."

She smiled and came to hug me happily, if awkwardly, due to Jesse not letting go of my hand.

"I'm glad you're going to be my sister, Suze," she told me. "I could never stand Maria."

Which was a plus, I suppose. Being accepted into the de Silva family.

"Hey, everybody!" Adam called getting the attention of everyone inside the building. "It's coming up to the countdown - those who want to see the fireworks, get outside!"

Laughing, the majority of the people at the party made their way outside of the building, me and my new fiancé included

"10 … 9 … 8 …" the countdown begun, led by an overly-drunk-and-therefore-very-enthusiastic Adam. "7 … 6 …"

Jesse turned me around in his arms, to look up at the sky.

"I love you, querida." He whispered into my ear, kissing my neck as he did so.

"5 … 4 …"

"I love you too." I whispered back turning my head so that he could kiss me properly, on the lips.

"3 … 2 …"

Our lips met as, quite literally, fireworks exploded around us.

"1 … Happy New Year!"

The people around us cheered and whooped the start of the New Year, as they began on their way home - some in cabs, many walking.

"Come on," Jesse whispered when we were practically the only ones left on the sidewalk. "Let's lock up, and then go home."

Which was another thing I couldn't believe. Jesse was no longer The Guy Next Door. I'd sold my apartment.

Now, Jesse and I lived together.


End file.
